


Selfish

by enkelimagnus



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Addicts Anonymous Meeting, Amnesiac Clary Fray, Background Helen Blackthorn/Aline Penhallow, Background Luke Garroway/Maryse Lightwood, Background Robert Lightwood/Original Female Character, Break Up, F/M, Head of Institute Isabelle Lightwood, Head of the Institute Alec Lightwood, Immortality Issues (Shadowhunter Chronicles), Inquisitor Alec Lightwood, M/M, Mourning, Past Drug Addiction, Post-Canon, Recovery, Second Chances, Sexual Content, Weapons Master Isabelle Lightwood, memory recovery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-22
Updated: 2020-07-02
Packaged: 2020-09-24 04:02:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 46
Words: 56,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20352070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/enkelimagnus/pseuds/enkelimagnus
Summary: Everywhere he goes, he’s reminded of her. Alicante bears her mark, where she tried to stop Jonathan during the battle. The city is still being rebuilt now, but soon, he won’t see the consequences of her bond to her brother anymore.-------------------Magnus and Alec have been married for almost a year now, and Jace comes to visit his parabatai in Alicante.He is still mourning the love of his life, but there is a familiar face in Alicante that he might be able to share his grief with.Over the course of a few months, Jace and his family deal with loss, grief and finding their own paths for themselves.





	1. Second Meetings

**Author's Note:**

> This is an entirely unexpected fic. It will be a multichapter one, and it'll... go as it goes. I have no idea where I'm going yet, so bear with me!
> 
> Thanks to IndigoDream for helping me out with tenses, I very very rarely write in present tense. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy something a little different!

Jace walks through the corridors of the Accords Hall in Alicante. It feels strange, still, to call this place Alec’s home, when it’s just so removed from the place they grew up in, the New York Institute. Alec is not exactly expecting him, Jace portalled in with Magnus earlier and didn’t tell his parabatai. 

Magnus’ own visit is far from a surprise, since he comes every other day almost, unable to keep himself away from his husband for too long. They make it work, Alec working as interim Inquisitor while Jia Penhallow cleans the corruption out of the Clave’s innermost circle. 

Jace admires them, really. Every qualm he had with Magnus has been quieted long ago, somewhere in between the multiple times that Magnus has saved his life, Alec’s life… All of their lives. 

They have been married for almost a year now. Their relationship is the most beautiful thing Jace has ever seen. It makes him miss being in one himself, even if he’s resolved himself never to go to someone who isn’t Clary. 

Clary’s doing okay. She’s living, she’s thriving, almost, in her mundane life. He watches sometimes from afar, he watches her date other people, and none of the relationships working out. He gets mad at his own satisfaction when he sees her being unable to love someone else. 

It’s cruel, truly. It’s cruel of him to be so happy that she’s stuck not loving anyone but someone she doesn’t know exists. 

Jace swallows. Everywhere he goes, he’s reminded of her. Alicante bears her mark, where she tried to stop Jonathan during the battle. The city is still being rebuilt now, but soon, he won’t see the consequences of her bond to her brother anymore. 

He’s so taken by the memories of her standing where he walks that he bumps into someone, violently. The person is thrown back, they make a noise of annoyance and hurt and Jace snaps out of his spiral of regret and pain and grief to look at the woman lying on the ground. 

“Lydia?” He asks, and walks forward, helping her to her feet. “I’m sorry. I didn’t see you.” 

“That was obvious, Jace,” she replies. Her tone is still as dry as it was when she lived at the Institute. 

“What are you doing here?” Jace looks at her, she’s carrying a small pile of files and looking exhausted. 

“Working,” she has a hint of a smile. “Consul Penhallow asked for the files of the weapons department personnel.” 

Jace nods, and he smiles a little. “So you still work with misbehaving shadowhunters… fixing broken systems.” 

Lydia huffs, and looks at him. “You’d have thought that I wouldn’t anymore, after the mess that the New York Institute made on my résumé.” She chuckles. “But here I am. One of the few trusted ones.” 

“You were always loyal to the Clave,” Jace mentions. 

She swallows, and looks away, at the landscape of construction and dust. “A little too much, sometimes.” 

Jace nods, and he falls silent for a moment. He doesn’t know what to say. He doesn’t want to say ‘it’s okay’ because it wasn’t, they both know that. She was racist and she might still be. The way she treated Meliorn makes Jace uncomfortable to this day. He still has issues with looking at him in the eyes, and it’s not only due to the fact that they shared an Alliance rune and Jace said he found Meliorn handsome. 

“Listen,” Jace says after a moment. “I have to go see Alec, but… maybe we could see each other some time?” 

He doesn’t know why he’s asking that. He and Lydia never had much of a connection. He was too angry, and he was in love with Clary, and he thought Clary was his sister. Alec was going to marry her, and she was prosecuting Izzy. And then she was in the med bay. And then he was on the run, and she’d gone back to Alicante before he could get free from the City of Bones. 

Right now, Jace needs anything he can get. He’s not doing alright. People are moving on with their lives, Alec in Alicante with his husband, happy as ever, Izzy as Head of the Institute with Simon as Vampire-Shadowhunter Diplomatic liaison, his mother and Luke thriving, Clary… 

Lydia nods. “Sure,” she smiles. She grabs her phone out of her pocket and hands it to him. “Give me your number. That way you’ll warn me if you’re ever in Alicante.” 

“I don’t come often. I’m still based in New York,” Jace explains. He was offered other jobs, training young shadowhunters, leading squads, but he couldn’t stay away from Clary. New York is his home, and it’s hers too. 

Lydia watches him. “I was told what happened to Clary. I’m sorry.” 

“She did the right thing. She sacrificed herself for all of us,” Jace replies, and though he believes those words, he doesn’t want them to sound as good as they do. Clary shouldn’t have been a martyr. 

Lydia nods. “She’ll be okay, out there. She’s strong.” 

“I’m not afraid about her safety,” Jace admits. “I… I can’t stand to know she’s out there. Alone.” 

He knows it’s selfish. He doesn’t fear for her safety, he knows she’s probably happier as a mundane. She told him about art school, she told him she missed being able to draw as often as she wants. Now, she does that. 

Lydia looks at him and he watches her back. She’s so different from Clary. She’s older, she’s wiser. She’s calmer too. There is something steady about her that Clary didn't have. Clary was always fighting everyone and everything. Maybe it is because they met in time of war, and lost each other before there could be peace. Jace wonders what she would be like, in times of peace. 

What would she be? Would Clary be a Head of Institute? Would she work in Alicante? Would she stay field soldier, even if she’s from an old, powerful family, even if she’s a hero? Jace cannot see her anywhere but in the field or in an art studio. He guesses she got the art studio part. 

“I have to go,” Lydia says. Her eyes are softer than he remembers them ever being when they first met. Gone is the austere cold. She watches him with softness. Maybe it’s pity. Maybe not. He hasn’t felt that kind of tenderness in a long time. 

He hates himself for thinking like this. Clary is still alive, she’s out there, and one day, she might remember him. If he starts talking to someone, if he starts thinking of someone else as soft and tender and warm, it would be cheating on her. What would she say if she saw him talking to Lydia? Thinking about getting a drink with her? 

“I’ll text you,” Jace replies. It’s not a promise. Promises are cheating too. He promised her he would wait for her, even if she doesn’t know that. 

Lydia nods at him, a goodbye nod this time, and she walks away. He doesn’t watch her go. He moves forward and goes to knock at the door of Alec’s office. 

Alec is happy to see him, and Jace decides that’s all that matters right now.


	2. Mornings like any others

The sun is barely rising when Simon is woken up by the shrill ringing of the alarm. It’s on Izzy’s phone on her bedside table, and he slides out of bed, puts the snooze on, and lets her sleep for a few minutes more. 

She’s exhausted, under the pressure of the Head of Institute job. She’s happy some days because it allows her to wear some of her favorite heels, simple high pumps that look classy and that she cannot really wear in the field. 

She’s also great at her job. Simon likes being a Vampire-Clave liaison officer under her. 

She shifts in bed next to him and huffs, her face buried in the pillow. She’s wearing her favorite pjs. He likes them for how soft they are. 

He’s getting used to her being here. Ever since the night before Magnus and Alec’s wedding, she’s slept here every night. In the bed, of course, not in the couch. What idea kind of stupid idea did he have to spend the night with her on the goddamn couch? 

The fridge is half-filled with human food and half with blood. He tries to cook her breakfast sometimes, but he’s never been a good cook, and now he can’t even taste most of anything without gagging. 

Izzy isn’t a great cook either. They are far from the most skilled couple when it comes to food. 

It stopped being strange to call her his girlfriend around six months ago. Around the time it stopped being so horribly shameful to be happy while Clary was gone. 

He wishes he could tell her about his relationship with Izzy, or the graphic novel that is almost finished now. He needs to find a title, a pen name, and maybe tweak a couple of other things. 

The main character of it is a young woman with flaming red hair and a flaming red soul. Clara Faechild. It is such an unoriginal name. Clara Faechild and Samuel Levy. He’s done the same with the other names, and mundanes would never really realize what it means. 

Izzy - the wonderful model for the novel’s Elizabeth "Lizzy" Darkglass - stirs next to him as the alarm rings again. 

This time, she wakes up and turns it off herself. She checks the time and huffs softly. 

"It’s 6.15, Simon," she grumbles. "I was supposed to be awake at 6." 

Simon looks at her softly. "You’re exhausted."

"15 minutes is not going to change that." 

Izzy sits up, and Simon can see how she stares down longingly at the dark blue sheets. She wants to stay in. She hasn’t had a late morning in months, ever since Alec has left for Alicante. 

She yawns and he watches her. She’s less pretty when she’s tired, but only because he doesn’t like when she’s not perfectly happy. Which is rather rarely. She doesn’t always have good days. 

Whether they talk about it or not, the yin fen has left some traces. He doesn’t blame her, of course not. He’s there anyway. He’s always going to be there for her. That’s what relationships are about. Being there for each other. 

They both get out of bed and she heads to the bathroom while he makes coffee. He can manage coffee. 

He checks the time. When she’ll be gone, he’ll pray Shaharit. He has time, until the astronomical noon. Then he has a training session with Jace planned, and he has to go help Maia with some pack business. She’s trying to keep the new werewolves from adopting the views on vampires than older ones have. 

It’s a struggle, she’s told him. Many have the vision of vampires from folklore, and though they both imagine that Twilight and other vampire franchises has helped the opinion change, Maia still has a lot of work to do. 

Izzy comes out of the bathroom as he’s pouring blood into a cup for breakfast. He’s tried mixing it with coffee, but that was absolutely disgusting. 

She’s wearing a dark blue dress with her pumps, her hair is styled and she’s put on some makeup. It’s insane how perfect she looks now. 

She grabs her own cup and smiles at him, leaning up to kiss him. He kisses her back, keeps it light and chaste. They do not have time for more. 

By 7, she’s gone. And his own day starts with the leather strap of the arm-tefillah wrapped around his arm.   
  


\---------------

Jace stares at the text Lydia sent him after they crossed each other in Alicante. It’s simple, there are no flourishes, the grammar is on point. It’s nothing like the texts in his and Clary’s conversation. 

He keeps scrolling up their convo, looking at the things they said to each other. It’s unfair how much he remembers of her, it’s unfair that he didn’t get his memory wiped too. 

It’s also unfair how little they were emotional with each other. He wishes the texts could show them as a normal couple, but they don’t. Only a few are not related to work, of their mission to save the world. Too many talk of Jonathan. Too few talk of their love for one another. 

They went on two dates, they loved each other for around two months. When put into perspective, it feels like nothing, but Jace can feel in the black hole in his heart that it was much deeper than a whirlwind fling. 

_ It's a whirlwind fling that burns so hot all it can do is flame out. _

He was so mistaken about love before Clary, and even after her, a little. He remembers that stupid conversation he had with Magnus. He couldn’t have known that two months would pass and they would be married. 

The truth is, he both does and doesn’t want to see Lydia again. He wants to see her because she hasn’t changed. She looks the same, acts the same, has the same blunt way of speaking and basically the same job. He doesn’t want to see her, because somehow, it feels like a betrayal of the promise he made that he wouldn’t move on from Clary. 

It’s stupid, really. Talking to another woman doesn’t mean cheating. Clary wouldn’t care if he talked to Lydia. She would maybe be annoyed because Lydia was not exactly on their side the last time they met. She doesn’t care because she doesn’t remember him. 

Why does he worry so much? Lydia is just an acquaintance. She is yet to be anything more, yet to be a friend, even. Why does he feel like he’s cheating? 

He puts his phone in his pocket and makes his way to the training room. There, he strips off his hoodie, and grabs the hand wraps, wraps them, and gets to work. 

It feels good to punch the punching bag. He thinks back to hours spent in this very room, alone or with Alec or Izzy when they were younger. Alec was always the most intense, throwing his entire body into the punches. Izzy sometimes was the same, but she was more precise.

He also remembers Clary beating Aline up in this very room, her frustration and feeling of lack of control crystalized into fury by the Twinning Rune in her chest, a glaring, painful rune that didn’t seem to heal. 

The rhythm of his punches falters and he stops after a moment, breath catching as he tries not to think. 

The door bangs open and he thanks the Angel for it, even if Raziel and him haven’t been in great terms lately. 

It’s Simon, with a wide smile. It’s time for work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed this!
> 
> Shoot me an ask or a DM on my tumblr @enkelimagnus, or reach me on my Twitter @enkelimagnus!  
I have anons on and curiouscat so don't be shy!


	3. Someone who isn't dead

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter, and probably a lot of the following, will deal with addiction and recovery.

_How do you mourn someone who isn’t dead?_

Jace has never thought he’d wish for someone to be dead the way he wishes that she would be, right now. It would be so much easier. 

He doesn’t really understand how Alec, Magnus and Izzy have moved on so easily. How Simon isn’t fighting to bring her back, every second of every day. Maybe it’s the fact that their adversary would be Raziel himself, that keeps them all from reacting. 

Jace is angry. He’s angry that he’s the only one who seems to be missing her. Izzy and Simon are in love. It’s like they don’t care about her being out there, waiting for them. 

Jace oscillates between anger and pain. All he wants, is for it all to stop. All he wants, is to be okay again. He was finally happy, at Magnus and Alec’s wedding. Jonathan was dead, his parabatai was happy, his sister was happy, everyone was happy, and he was with Clary, and for once, for a couple of hours, he’d felt... free. And calm. Like he could finally rest. 

It’s so unfair that he cannot. That he had to search for her everywhere in the Institute and find her letter. 

Jace takes his phone in hand and texts Lydia. 

_How do you mourn someone who isn’t dead? JH_

The reply arrives a few minutes later._ I cannot tell you that, Jace. I can tell you how to mourn the love of your life though. LB_

_How? JH_

_Time. But you will forever miss her. LB_

Jace throws his phone onto the bed, and he’s thankful that he didn’t throw it against the wall. He’s been getting better at this. He’s been getting better at managing his anger. 

He’s seen a therapist, pushed by Simon and Izzy. Simon trusts mundane therapy and Izzy... she’s taking his advice, and it’s working for her, recovery wise. So Jace goes to therapy. 

He’s managed to find a Downworlder therapist, and with some convincing, became their patient. He’s doing so much better. He wishes she could be there to see him. 

Jace sighs and walks over to pick up the phone. There’s a message, from a couple minutes ago. 

_Do you want to have coffee, Jace? In the mundane world. We can talk about them. John, and Clary. LB_

Jace closes his eyes for a second. He swallows, and opens the message app again. 

_Yeah. When are you free? JH_

\-----------------

Isabelle sits in the Addicts Anonymous meeting room, worrying her hands and trying not to focus on the overwhelming guilt she feels for even being here. 

She should be doing her work in the Institute, not attending a meeting that she objectively doesn’t need anymore. Or does she? 

She’s been wondering lately, about the state of her recovery. She’s been wondering if she’s really doing as well as she thinks she is. She rarely has cravings anymore. They always happen when she’s alone with Simon, not when she’s in the field. 

They used to come when she missed the feeling of heightened senses that came with the vampire venom in her system. Now they come when she’s cuddling with her boyfriend, watching a movie, or when they are making out, and her addiction starts playing a fantasy in her mind, Simon’s fangs digging into her skin and his venom flowing into her body. 

She hates it. It’s like it has hooked itself in the one thing she was happy about after Clary left, as if it’s trying to keep ruining every part of her life. 

She doesn’t want to burden Jace, not when he’s having such a hard time mourning. She doesn’t want to burden Alec either, he’s too busy dealing with the job of Inquisitor in Alicante, and he trusted her with taking care of the Institute. What would he think if he knew she is still weak? 

Other recovering addicts are trickling into the room. Isabelle knows it’s stupid to be here. She cannot tell them the exact truth, that her boyfriend is a vampire and that she craves his venom. She’ll have to find some kind of metaphor if she wants to talk about it. And even then... it won’t be exact. 

A skinny woman with dark hair and blue eyes sits on the chair next to her and Izzy nods slightly in her direction. She wears expensive shoes, Izzy notices. Givenchy. 

She doesn’t pay much more attention to her, turning to the meeting leader who walks into the room and towards the stand. It’s a tall man with shoulder-length hair, who speaks in a soft but firm voice that Izzy very much enjoys hearing. 

When he asks who wants to share, the woman next to her stands up and walks towards the stand. 

"Hey," she says. Her voice is a little hoarse, and she looks like she does not want to be speaking publicly. "I’m an addict," she whispers. "I’ve been sober for a year and two months now, but I think I’m not... I think I’m not making the right choices." 

Izzy perks up and looks up from her nailpolish. 

"You’re with friends here, you can talk to us about it," the meeting leader says, soothingly. 

Givenchy woman nods, and swallows. "I have been dating someone," she starts. "And I knew from the start that... he might not be the right choice. We’ve been dating for... it’s going to be a year next month." 

Maybe coming here wasn’t as useless as Izzy originally believed. It’s strange, how it seems like the Angels have decided to put in her path this woman, whose situation seems to be so similar to hers. 

"And I love him. Or at least I think I do," Givenchy continues. "He takes great care of me. He’s sweet, and he understands my recovery and he cares so much about me being healthy. But he’s... he’s a dealer. Of what I used to take." 

There is a small gasp, and Izzy realizes that it came from her. She blushes and looks down again, but she keeps listening. Her hands are shaky, but she doesn’t feel the cravings and... She’s afraid, she realizes. She isn’t shaking from cravings. She’s shaking from the fear that she might have to break Simon’s heart. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed this!
> 
> Shoot me an ask or a DM on my tumblr @enkelimagnus, or reach me on my Twitter @enkelimagnus!  
I have anons on and curiouscat so don't be shy!


	4. Advice from the Immortal

Magnus checks over again the name written on his schedule. It’s unusual. _Jace Herondale_.

They don’t talk much. They have never been friends. Magnus honestly doubts that they will ever be. They are family in a way, but Magnus doesn’t feel obligated to love everyone that Alec loves, and vice versa.

He knows Alec and Dot aren’t really on good terms, and he will never force Alec to love her. He understands that friendships do not transfer through a marital bond.

There are some days he forgets he’s married. It’s stupid really, but he’s spent over 300 years non-married, and this has only been a year. It gets confusing some days, but he always loves it. He loves remembering that he is married. He loves catching sight of the wedding band he wears every day. He loves the way Alec has taken to calling him 'husband'. It’s old-timey and strange in this era, but Magnus loves it.

When Magnus sleeps in Alicante with Alec, there is nothing he loves more than waking up and hearing the sound of Alec’s sleepy voice whispering "Good morning, husband", in his ear.

Magnus is deeply in love, and now he’s married, and lately, when he thinks about it, he realizes that he has earned it. He has earned unwavering love and happiness, even if him and Alec are far from perfect.

Relationships are never perfect, and Magnus knows better than to expect this one to be any different. He actually knew from the start that this one would be harder, because despite the curiosity that peaked behind Clave professionalism, Alec was, is, and will always be a Shadowhunter.

Some days, Magnus wishes that Alec had been born a mundane or a Downworlder, away from the machine of destruction and pain that is the Clave. Other days, he knows that this is the Alec he was meant to be with. He doesn’t know if he believes in fate, but if it does exist, this is it. Alec is it.

It’s been hard to be away from Alec lately. Alicante is far, and there are only so many times that Magnus can portal in. Alec is facing some backlash for his choice of spouse, both in race and gender. Magnus knows it would be easier if he could be there for him, but it’s not possible.

The Clave doesn’t like Magnus. They never have, and for good reasons. Magnus is a criminal in their files, and he’s lead a couple of revolts. He’s also the first Downworlder to officially marry a Clave official. Magnus is a Downworlder, a warlock, a man, son of Asmodeus and enemy of the Clave, and he’s married Alec Lightwood, son of Circle members, Head of the New York Institute and currently interim Inquisitor. The Clave hates that.

They would never really let him stay in Alicante, not in a way that would hide something. Maybe they would, to keep him in check. They would invent some rules to make sure his life was completely controlled by them.

Magnus misses Alec’s constant presence, especially considering that most of their relationship beforehand has been spent basically joined to the hip. Alec had unofficially moved in very early and it had just... stayed like this. Not having him around is almost disorienting, but Magnus doesn’t entirely hate it.

He’s talked with Alec and Alec feels the same. Breathing room is important. Magnus wouldn’t be able to stand always being close. He’s always been a bit too independent for that.

The doorbell rings and it shakes Magnus out of his reflection. He walks to the door and opens it. Jace is standing there. Magnus lets him in.

"What can I do for you, Jace?" Magnus asks. It’s very strange to see him there.

"I need some advice. I think you’d be the one most likely to help me with it."

Magnus closes the door and walks towards the living room. He guesses Jace doesn’t need a potion or a spell, just a chat. He snaps his fingers and two cups and a coffee pot appeared on the coffee table. He has to admit he wouldn’t expect Jace to consider his opinion or his expertise. He’s pleasantly surprised.

"Well, you have me booked for an hour, so get comfortable and tell me all about your issues." Magnus motions towards the couch.

Jace sits down, uncomfortably. Magnus sits across from him. He looks at him for a moment. Jace looks tired. He has dark bags under his eyes and there is a heaviness in his entire body that there wasn’t before.

"It’s... Clary."

Magnus nods. He was expecting this. He’s an immortal. It’s obvious that Magnus have loved and lost many. And he guesses he’s the closest Jace has to an expert on moving on.

"It’s... going to be a year soon," Jace adds. "She’s out there, and I know it. I don’t know what to do about it though. I want... to go see her and to try and trigger her memory. I want to keep loving her, and keep having her in my life, as my girlfriend." He swallows and licks his lips. Magnus pours them cups of coffee. "I also... I don’t want to hurt her. I don’t want to anger the Angels and cause them to hurt her again, or hurt me. I can’t do that to the others, to Alec, to Izzy."

Magnus licks his lips. This is a hard subject. It makes him think of Etta and Imasu, and all the others that he has had to leave behind because of his long life, and for their own good.

"I feel guilty, too," Jace whispers. "I feel guilty for thinking about letting her go. I promised her... and myself that I would wait for her. That I wouldn’t forget her."

Magnus sighs softly. "Moving on does not mean forgetting," he explains. "You came to me because I’m immortal. Because I know what moving on is like."

"Yes."

"Moving on will never be forgetting," He repeated. "You cannot forget someone you love, not really. What you can do though, is keep living."

Jace nods. "I guess I just... I just can’t get myself past the guilt. She’s out there, she isn’t dead. It’s not... It’s not like she’s gone."

Magnus leans back against the couch. "I’ve never exactly been in this situation, but I’ve had my share of hopes that my loved one would come back," he starts. "I wasn’t able to move forward until I decided that they were gone."

Jace swallows. "So I should... think of her as dead?" He reaches for the cup of coffee, tries to drink but doesn’t. He puts it back down.

"It’s a decision you have to take for yourself. I can’t tell you exactly what the right thing is. But I think it can help you decide what to do. Choosing between holding onto the hope she’ll come back, and waiting for her, and thinking of her as gone and moving forward."

"Either I believe the Angels will give her her memories back, or I believe they will not."

Magnus nods. "Exactly. Either way, it will not be an easy road. Grief, no matter the kind or the cause, is hard. It’s not a path you go down without support."

Jace shifts a little. "I have my therapist."

"That’s good, but I also think you should talk to Izzy and Alec about it. They are closer to you than your therapist. They are the people you need to rely on. You shouldn’t do this alone."

Jace’s phone rings suddenly and Magnus sighs. The Institute always calls inopportunely. That’s something he’s learned to deal with with Alec.

"I’m sorry," Jace apologizes and stands up. "I have to go."

Magnus sighs a little and stands up as well. "I understand. Just think about what I’ve told you, alright?"

Jace nods. "I will. Thank you for your time and your advice."

Magnus keeps himself from mentioning that it might be one of the first times Jace actually thanks him for something.

He opens a portal for him to directly get back to the Institute. Jace thanks him again and leaves. The portal closes back on him and Magnus sits down a bit heavier on the couch. Emotional support is intense work, especially this kind. He truly hopes that Jace will open up to his siblings and friends. Finding yourself alone in trying times hurts more than people usually imagine. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed this!
> 
> Shoot me an ask or a DM on my tumblr @enkelimagnus, or reach me on my Twitter @enkelimagnus!  
I have anons on and curiouscat so don't be shy!


	5. Together, Apart

Izzy walks into her apartment and the first thing she does is kick off her shoes. She loves heels, but she prefers heeled boots to the navy escarpins she has worn for the entire day.

She can feel the knots in her back, she can feel the general annoyance that permeates the way she looks at everything around her. It’s the way exhaustion acts on her mind. It paints everything in darker shades than necessary. It makes everything annoying and drab and it makes her want to scream.

She hangs up her coat. It’s September. It’s starting to get cold. She hates wearing too many layers.

She grabs her phone and opens the food delivery app. She doesn’t want to cook. She’s pretty sure Simon doesn’t either. She just wants someone to give her her food so she can eat and go to bed.

"Already ordered."

Simon’s voice comes out of nowhere. Well, no it comes out of the bedroom, but she hasn’t thought he’d be home.

He’s standing in the doorway of the bedroom, and before she can say anything, he pushes himself and slides towards up. She looks at his feet. He’s wearing some very fluffy socks. She can’t help but smile.

"I got you Arròs negre," he points out. "I thought you’d need it."

Arròs negre is one of Izzy’s favorite food. When she was younger, her grandmother had a mundane house on the Spanish coast. And she would make them Arròs negre, over and over.

Izzy grins at him. "Thank you so much, baby," she sighs. "I’m gonna go and shower and change. Tell me when it’s here, okay?"

Simon nods. She stops as she walks past him and kisses him tenderly. He kisses her back. She sighs again against his lips and he keeps her from walking further for a moment, his arms around her waist.

She lets herself relax. The knots in her back won’t dissipate yet, but they are mellowing. Some Arroz negre, a shower and some cuddles and she’ll be fine.

Simon is comfortable and solid against her and she kisses him again. It’s so nice. Having him there when she comes home. Going to bed next to him. Waking up next to him. It’s comfortable and domestic and she’s never known something like this before.

Life with Simon is new. Before she moved in with him, a couple of months ago, she had never lived in the mundane world. She’d adventured in it, of course, but she’d never lived in it.

She scoots back a little. "Gonna shower now," she reminds, and makes her way to the bathroom.

She strips naked, throws her navy dress and underwear on the floor and steps under the shower. The water takes a while to warm up but finally she stops shivering.

Her hair is wet now. She should have taken off her makeup before getting in the shower. She grabs her cleanser and sets to do it then there.

She rinses her now makeup-free face, when the door opens.

"May I get in?" Simon asks. Izzy bits her lip.

It’s been a bit hard to be intimate with Simon lately. The cravings never come at the right time, and it’s usually when they’re in bed. She wants him though, she still does.

The sex is good. He makes her orgasm, and that’s more than half of the boys she’s dated. She misses it.

"Yes," she calls out over the noise of the water.

She doesn’t hear him take off his clothes but soon enough, he pulls back the shower curtain.

He pulls her close and kisses her again. This time, it’s harder, deeper and passionate. It lights a fire in Izzy. She kisses him back and wraps her arms around his neck. She closes her eyes as he slips his tongue in her mouth. Her back hits the white-tiled wall.

His hands slip lower and he picks her up and presses closer to her. She wraps her legs around his waist. His skin is slightly colder than hers.

He lets go of her lips and starts kissing down her cheek and down her neck. His lips settle on the crook of her neck.

Izzy unplugs her brain when she feels his cock slide inside of her.

  
\----------------

Clary has bangs now. She looks beautiful. Her style has changed. She wears skirts and dresses all the time, way more than when she used to hunt. Of course she does. She gets to wear less comfortable things now that she doesn’t have to run after demons all the time.

Jace isn’t glamoured today, but he’s blending enough in the crowd that she doesn’t see him. They are sitting in a Starbucks. He ordered a simple coffee.

She has some complicated drink in front of her and a pastry. She’s always had a sweet tooth. She has her earbuds in and a sketchpad in front of her. She’s been bumping her head to the rhythm for a while.

Jace feels almost weird watching her. If she saw that he was doing that, she would think he’s a creep. He doesn’t want her to feel that.

He wishes he could go to her, sit next to her and talk for ours about her new life. He’d make up a story about his own life. James, piano teacher and gym enthusiast, 22. Close enough, right? He’d tell her about his siblings, Lizzy and Alex and Max. He’d pretend everything’s mundane and okay.

He can’t even do that. The Angels would probably strike them down again. So Jace sips on his plain americano with no milk and no sugar, and watches her separate a piece of cinnamon roll from the rest of the twist and put it in her mouth.

He guesses this is who Clary is when there’s no war. This is who she was before he walked into her life, on August 23rd 2016. In a couple of weeks, it will be a year.

Jace stands up and forces himself to walk past her. She doesn’t look up. He shoots a glance at what she’s doodling. He can’t make out any real shape. He throws his empty cup in the trash and pushes the door open.

He always away from her again. It hurts the same, every time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed this!
> 
> Shoot me an ask or a DM on my tumblr @enkelimagnus, or reach me on my Twitter @enkelimagnus!  
I have anons on and curiouscat so don't be shy!


	6. On Good Political Terms

"How’s the work at the Institute?" 

Simon looks up from his glass of blood. Maia is sitting across from him. She looks a bit tired, but the good kind of tired, considering how she is glowing. Being an Alpha suits her. Simon never really doubted that. Maia has always been good to her pack. Much better than he has ever been to his clan.

The New York Clan - that he doesn’t feel right calling his - has made clear they didn’t want Simon in. He has too much of a history of taking the Shadowhunters’ side. He understands them. He wouldn’t trust him either. 

"It’s fine. Weird, to be around Shadowhunters like that," Simon says. 

"I bet they still look at you funny, don’t they?" 

Simon chuckles. "I’m very lovable, but I’m still a vampire. A Daylighter maybe, but-" he raises his glass in a telling motion. "- still a vampire." 

Maia shrugs. "Understandable. It’ll take more than a few months to undo centuries of prejudices. The Shadowhunters who think that are cute. No offense to your girl." 

"We’re both aware of the culture she was raised in," Simon mutters. 

Izzy still has moments where her racism shows. It makes Simon somewhat uncomfortable sometimes, but he understands. He just wasn’t expecting it. He’s too naive. 

Ingrained biases don’t disappear into thin air with six months and some good intentions. Maybe she loves him, but she’s still Isabelle Lightwood. 

Simon wonders what it’s like for Magnus or Helen, when their loved ones start spouting some of the prejudiced venom they consider fact. 

He doesn’t know Helen much, so he can’t really tell, but Simon knows Magnus doesn’t let it pass. He shouldn’t let it pass with Izzy either. 

It’s just strange to have to be like this, to have to remind, to constantly be doing some kind of emotional labor for her. She should watch her own language, her own expressions. He shouldn’t be the one that has to do that for her. 

It’s unfair, and Simon hates those parts. When he calls her out, she either melts into apologies and begging for forgiveness, or almost brushes it off. Simon is getting tired of that. 

"Trouble in Paradise?" Maia asks softly. 

Simon sighs a little. "Not exactly. We’re just very different people. It comes into sharper and sharper contrast every day." 

"That’s not entirely a bad thing. The whole birds of a feather flock together is not the rule." 

Simon nods and falls silent. He honestly doesn’t know what to think, or what to feel. He was so sure that Izzy was the one for him. She is smart, she is gorgeous, she appreciates his sense of humor. They have the Shadow World and Clary in common. When they’d gotten together, it’d seemed to have fallen into place. 

Izzy wasn’t a complicated choice. She’d been there, she’d helped when Clary was gone and his mother had thought him dead. Simon is attracted to her. They have fun when they are together. It is simple. 

And yet, it’s just so confusing and complicated. 

"What about you? Dating anyone?" Simon asks, to direct the conversation away from Izzy and him. 

Maia chuckles. "No, not really. I’m thinking of going back to it but... I like taking my time. I’m not one of the people who always needs to have someone there." 

Simon wonders if it’s directed to him. He did have a very... intense romantic life. There had been the thing with Maureen, then a few weeks later, his first date with Maia. Then, he’d been with Clary for around two weeks. Maia and him had dated again for another two weeks. They’d broken up, and a few days later, he’d started dating Izzy. 

Simon guessed that, to Maia, it was maybe a little strange. They’d never really talked about it. They were still friends, but they just didn’t talk about the end of their relationship. Maia leaving, Maia breaking up with them to become Alpha, Maia somewhat getting back with Jordan and Simon starting to get with Izzy. 

"Whenever you find the person for you... There’s no time table to this. No guided path." 

Would he had done differently if he’d known that Isabelle was the one that would last? Would he had gotten with her from the start? Maybe. It would avoided everyone a lot of pain. 

Maia has a little shrug and sips her coffee. 

"Clary’s birthday is soon, right?" She asks. 

Simon swallows. "It’s in 5 days, exactly. I needed to ask you-"

"Yeah, you can use the Jade Wolf as a venue," she counteracts. "We’re not formally open, anyway, so it’s not like you’d be taking clientele away."

"Thanks, Maia," Simon smiles a little. "You’re welcome to be there too." 

"Thank you, but I didn’t really know her. We had a rocky relationship, and it was mostly around you. You and Luke are the two things we have in common." 

Simon hums. "She defended you against the Clave." 

"And I’m very thankful for that, but I’m not automatically friends with every white person who helps me out against the system." 

The system. Simon swallows. He remembers what he told her when she killed Heidi. From the glint in her eyes just then, Maia hasn’t forgotten either. He wonders if she’ll forgive him for that. He wonders if he’ll forgive himself for slipping into the propaganda. 

"Either way, the invitation is open," Simon adds. 

Maia nods. Simon knows she won’t take it. Maia doesn’t really love the Shadowhunters, which makes sense. Izzy and her briefly had a connection, when Simon and Maia were together, but it ended then Maia came back after Clary’s disappearance. 

Alec and Maia are on good political terms. Simon doesn’t know how else to explain it. Maia and Jace had a thing but that thing was resolved quickly and without trace for either of them. 

The only person Maia really likes in the Clave is Luke. Simon wonders what Maia and his’ relationship is like now. He’s left them all behind, the wolves. 

Simon and Maia keep chatting lightly for a few more minutes before Simon stands up and bids his goodbyes. 

Maia is back to work before the door closes on him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed this!
> 
> Shoot me an ask or a DM on my tumblr @enkelimagnus, or reach me on my Twitter @enkelimagnus!  
I have anons on and curiouscat so don't be shy!


	7. Outside Influence

Jace is sitting at a small table in the corner of Southern Cross Coffee. He’s purposefully chosen the one where he and Clary have never gone. She used to like a coffee place that was further away but much cooler and artsy. 

He knows he’s going to talk about her, and yet he doesn’t really want to think about her. Because he’s talking about her like she’s gone, today, and she can’t be a ghost in his eyes, a presence at the table. 

He’s early and he knows it. Once upon a time, he would have purposefully be late to a coffee date offered by a pretty girl, because he thought it was cool to make girls wait for him. He tried that with Clary, and she almost murdered him. 

He has got a long black coffee in front of him. It’s fair trade and organic, something Clary has taught him about too. It’s unfair how much of his life, down to coffee, has been influenced by her. They were only together for two months. 

His runes are hidden today, and he’s not wearing his holster, his seraph blade is hidden in his coat. It’s annoying, because it’s so warm outside. It’s coming on the end of August. 

The door moves open and the bell jingles. Jace looks up. It’s Lydia. She sees him and waves at him slightly. She doesn’t look like a Shadowhunter and it hits him in the face. He’s never seen her outside of work. 

Her hair is down, and the braid that usually holds part of her hair back is gone. She’s not wearing her usual work clothing, though she’s still straight laced and stricter than Clary ever was when she was on an off-day. He doubts Lydia is the type to be in her boyfriend’s sweatpants for a whole day when she doesn’t work. 

She orders her coffee and the barista tells her to go sit. She walks towards him and sits down. 

"Good afternoon," she says, and sighs a little. "Sorry for having to push it back to today. Cleaning the Clave is much harder than we all thought it would be." 

Jace shakes his head. "It’s fine. I was busy too." 

The barista brings her her coffee on a tray and leaves again. She takes a sip, and so does he. They are quiet for a while. It’s weird. They’ve never done this before, never really seen each other like this. Jace almost feels like he’s dressed too... work-like. 

"How are you?" Lydia asks. "Last time we talked, you weren’t that good." 

"I’m better," Jace says after a moment of hesitation. "I’ve had a chat with Magnus Bane about this. I assumed asking him about mourning might be a good idea." 

"Indeed, a 400-year-old warlock knows probably more than us mortals about loss."

Jace nods. "It was very... insightful," he adds. "And... he told me to determine whether I wanted to wait for her, or I wanted to consider her gone forever." 

Lydia nods. "So what have you decided?" 

"She’s gone. She’s living her life out there, but she’s not going to be in mine anymore. The Shadow World... and I, we’re dead to her, so... I’m gonna go at this from the... perspective that she’s dead to me too." 

Lydia has a small type of smile. She reaches over. Her fingertips pry his fist open and she holds his hand lightly for a moment. 

Jace hasn’t been touched like that for months. He doesn’t know how to feel about it. He doesn’t know if he should like it. He shakes his hand. Who cares. He needs the comfort. Soft gestures aren’t inherently romantic. 

"It’s hard. But it’s healthy," she assures, looking at him. It’s strange to see her this... soft. 

Jace nods. They stay like this for a second before he pulls his hand back.

"It’s unsettling, you know. I made this... struggle, this... yearning to have her back such an integral part of my life, of my identity, lately. Jace Herondale, waiting for Clary, angry at the Angels. Reckless, and unpredictable," Jace sighs. "I... Now I have to undo that."

"You don’t have to. Not entirely. It’s not about forgetting her, or not missing her. It’s about... moving forward," Lydia explains. "And you don’t have to be ashamed of not doing it until now either. It’s hard. It’s hard enough when you know they are dead, but when you know they aren’t?"

Jace swallows, closes his eyes for a second. "It’s being stuck. Stuck, waiting, for something you don’t even know is going to happen. You can’t feel and you can’t... heal. And everyone else is moving on. Everyone else is figuring things out and it feels like they don’t give a fuck about her. They tell you she would want you to move on, and you know you can’t betray her like that, because you made a promise and you just can’t betray that, can’t betray her, can’t do it." 

He opens his eyes again. He didn’t mean to ramble like that, but the words came out without him wanting them too. It’s not like with Magnus. It’s not like with Izzy or Alec. He can’t talk like that to them, not really, because they... they lost her too, and he can’t put his pain on top of theirs. But with Lydia, it’s different. 

It’s safer. No expectation, and no fear. She’s there, and she’s listening, and Jace doesn’t feel like he’s going to burden her with his feelings. With his pain. 

"I hate it," he whispers. "I hate being stuck. It’s torture. And I miss her so much..." He feels like crying but he doesn’t cry. He still has some dignity left, he tells himself. 

The coffee is cold the next time he brings it to his lips. Lydia watches him, calmly. She is so steady next to him, so calm and quiet and collected and it soothes him. Not only because it means he can be like that too, steady, even in the grief, that it will get better. It soothes him because she’s not fighting. She’s not like him, stuck in this same battle. She’s an outside force. 

And right now, he feels like she could be the force to keep him from drowning in his feelings. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed this!
> 
> Shoot me an ask or a DM on my tumblr @enkelimagnus, or reach me on my Twitter @enkelimagnus!  
I have anons on and curiouscat so don't be shy!


	8. Lonely Birthday Girl

There’s an ice cream cake on a table in the middle of the room. The walls are only halfway painted, there’s a smell of chemicals in the air, it’s messy and it’s far, far from ideal.

Alec and Magnus stand in a corner. They have portaled in from Alicante for this, and Alec has turned off his phone.

Luke and Maryse are chatting quietly, and Luke is forcing a smile on his face. Jace doesn’t know the man well, but he knows a fake smile when he sees one.

The door’s bell jingles as it opens. Simon steps in, followed by Izzy and Simon’s sister, Rebecca.

Rebecca goes through the room and hugs everyone, even those she doesn’t know like Magnus or Maryse. She has the same smile as Luke, the forced, brutally cheerful kind, that doesn’t reach her eyes and makes Jace more uncomfortable than anything else as she reaches him and hugs him tightly.

The cake has some letters in chocolate icecream on it. It reads 'Happy Birthday, Clara', because everything about this day is a stupid joke.

Jace feels the pain in his heart more ardently. It took his breath away, that morning, when he woke up, checked his phone and saw the date, and the stupid 'Clary’s birthday!!!!' reminder he’d put on his phone all these months ago.

"So, everyone’s here," Simon says. He’s taken over the preparations of the party. He’s revealed himself as the strongest of them all after the loss of Clary. Maybe it was already losing her a couple of weeks before that made him this way. Maybe he was always much stronger than he let on.

Izzy stands by his side, and she’s already crying. She’s trying not to show it, but there are tears slowly making their way from her eyes to her jaw, and she sniffles lightly. It’s very clear that she just came from work, she’s still wearing the clothing she wears almost every day now, as she spends hours behind her desk.

Tonight, they’re going hunting in the sewers. Izzy, Alec, and him, they’re forming their team again and going into the sewers find some demons and get it all out of their systems. Jace doesn’t know what it will be like. The last time he went to those sewers was to kill the Devrak Queen, and it was the day Clary went dark.

He knows that it will be good for all of them. Izzy and Alec haven’t really hunted in months, they’re all behind desks these days. Jace is the only one that is still actively on the field and he doesn’t want to change that. He was offered the Head of Security post by Izzy when she was given the Head of Institute job but he refused.

He didn’t want that job. And he didn’t want to get it from Izzy, when it meant Underhill would be demoted for it. Underhill was doing an amazing job.

"Everyone’s here," Simon repeats. "Today’s Clary’s birthday."

Not everyone is here. They are missing the most important piece, the person that brought them all together in one place. There’s no red hair in the crowd, no infectious smile, no fierce and proud eyes.

"A year ago today," Simon continues, "Clary followed Jace into Pandemonium."

The pain is back. Jace remembers bumping into her like it was yesterday, he remembers her indignant look and the way she hadn’t even been slightly afraid. Following him into the club was maybe her biggest mistake. After that day, Clary had lost everything. She’d lost her mother, her friends, her dreamed father and her real one, her brother, twice. And then she’d found them, Jace and Izzy, and she’d lost them and herself. And she didn’t even remember all of that.

Magnus snaps his fingers and every cup fills with alcohol. Jace takes a sip of his and welcomes the bite of whiskey.

"So, happy birthday Clary," Simon says softly, and there are tears choking his voice too. "I hope that you’re having a good day out there. And I hope that somehow, you feel that we are thinking of you."

Jace doesn’t even know if this party is a good idea. Clary’s not here to see it. She’s not here to know that they love her. That’s the whole point, they are celebrating her birthday for no reason.

Jace feels a bit nauseated by that. He wonders how they can all go through this knowing that it’s stupid and amounts to nothing. It kinda makes him angry too.

They have all seemed to move on. He was the only one staying there being crushed as they all moved forward as if she didn’t matter. And now they are having a sob party. And Jace can’t stand it.

"I can’t," he whispers.

Next to him, Rebecca looks up at him questioningly. He puts the whiskey-filled cup down hastily. He shakes his head. he takes a deep breath, takes a stumbling step backwards.

One step turns into more and he’s out the door. He’s running towards... somewhere. He doesn’t know. He wants out. He needs out.

Somewhere in the Brooklyn streets, he dials a number.

"Jace? Everything okay?"

Lydia’s voice makes him stop and sit on the stairs of a house to pick up his breath. He wonders when she’s become such a breath of calm.

  
\-----------------

The bell jingles at the door of the Hunter’s Moon. Maia is cleaning glasses there and she looks up.

The young woman is looking around the place, but Maia recognizes the red hair instantly. She has bangs now, she notices.

Clary walks to the bar. She looks a bit off, a bit lost and Maia doesn’t dare to say anything. She doesn’t even dare to think that maybe Clary could have her memories back.

"Hey," the woman says as she sits at the bar, on a stool. There’s no recognition in her eyes. "Do you have something for lonely birthday girls?"

Maia feels like she’s choking. She opens her mouth and closes it again. The woman, Clary, is looking at her expectantly.

"Huh, yeah," Maia manages to reply. "Gimme a second."

Clary reaches inside of her purse and pulls out her wallet. She takes her ID and slides it over the counter. It’s her old mundane ID, with a photo from before she became a Shadowhunter. Maia can see the difference between them and now. Her cheeks were rounder then. In that time, Clary has matured a lot. And she’s gotten a lot stronger, physically. She’s muscled now. Maia can see the difference from a simple ID picture.

"08/23/1998," Clary says. "It’s really my birthday."

Maia guesses she also took the ID out to show she wasn’t asking for alcohol. The Hunter’s Moon only partially follows mundane law. And Maia wants to make her her favorite cocktail. Or maybe it isn’t her favorite anymore.

"Coming right up," she mutters.

She turns to the bar and starts making it anyway. It’s simple, Maia executes the motions without really thinking about it.

All she can think about is the small party that’s happening in the Jade Wolf. The pain and sadness there. While Clary is sitting at her bar, looking somewhat miserable. She wishes she could tell her everything, but she can’t.

"Grapefruit Mojito," Maia says as she puts the glass in front of Clary. "On the house."

Clary looks up at her with wide eyes. "I’m underage," she blurts out.

"I saw your ID," Maia shrugs. "But you’re a lonely birthday girl. And it’s policy here that no birthday girl should ever be lonely. So drink up, and tell me all about your problems."

Maia usually hates playing bar therapist, but this time, she can’t help herself. She needs to be there for Clary.

The red-haired woman takes a sip of the cocktail. "That’s..." She mutters. "That’s amazing. And... it’s like I’ve... It’s familiar."

Maia shrugs. "I knew you’d like it."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed this!
> 
> Shoot me an ask or a DM on my tumblr @enkelimagnus, or reach me on my Twitter @enkelimagnus!  
I have anons on and curiouscat so don't be shy!


	9. Witchlight

The glow of the witch lights feel comforting. They haven’t done this in so long. They haven’t hunted together in months. Izzy put on her field clothing for the first time in so long. They feel a bit tight. She’s a bit out of shape. Alec looks the same as he always does.

There was supposed to be Jace with them on the hunt, but he ran away from the Jade Wolf and hasn’t come back yet. He doesn’t pick up his phone either. Alec doesn’t seem worried, though, so it must be that he isn’t in trouble. Izzy doesn’t actually know how much the distance between them has changed their parabatai bond the last few months.

Izzy is regretting her tight ponytail. It’s tugging a little too hard on her scalp. She’ll be fine though. Why shouldn’t she be?

The sewers smell the way they have smelled every time for the last decade. Izzy’s heels step onto something that makes a disgusting squishy noise and she doesn’t even look at what it is.

Izzy looks at her brother for a moment. He’s focused on the shadows that the witch lights cast on the walls. He’s expecting them to turn into demons.

There’s supposed to be a small nest of swamp demons around here, from what the field reports of the last week have been saying. Izzy usually keeps an eye on those. She still enjoys going on solo hunts to clear her head. She never tells anyone, even Simon.

"I wonder why Jace left," she says after a moment. "The way he ran away from the party was..."

"Unexpected?" Alec asks. "I don’t know. He’s been having a very hard time, about all of this. He’s been in pain."

"He’s not the only one," Izzy points out. "Simon and I miss her too. But we... we’ve tried to move on. We’re not... wallowing in sadness."

Alec winces. "That’s harsh. He lost the love of his life. I would be in a terrible state too if I lost Magnus."

Would she be that violently grieving if she lost Simon the way Jace had lost Clary? Izzy remembers thinking how Simon was it, how it made sense, how it had to make sense.

She swallows and shakes her head slightly. Of course she would be grieving. He’s basically her best friend, outside of her family.

"I don’t know. I guess I just wish he would let her go."

Alec doesn’t keep going. He focuses on moving forward. The first swamp demon crawls from the floor and wraps a strange cenacle-like appendice around Izzy’s ankle. Alec shoots it down precisely.

"You’ve kept up the training," Izzy notices.

"I’m only interim Inquisitor. And if I don’t fight something, even only in sparring, I feel... stifled."

"I get that."

Alec hums. "How are you finding being Head of Institute?"

Izzy thinks about it for a while. She can’t help but tilt her head, a small wince on her lips.

"I don’t think it’s for me," she says. "It’s nice. But it’s not what I want."

Alec nods. "Yeah. Inquisitor isn’t my dream job either."

The second and third demon come from the walls, and each attacks one of them. Izzy hisses as a drop of venom hits her forehead and buries itself into her flesh. Swamp demons don’t have strong venom. It stings, but it won’t poison her. She swings her blade and chops the head off of the demon that dropped venom on her.

There’s only a few more after that, before they set fire to the nest itself, and decide that waiting for Jace isn’t a good idea. Wherever he’s spending time, he’s probably enjoying himself more than he would here.

  
\------------

Lydia’s apartment is small. It’s not far from the Institute. Jace is surprised she got a place. They saw each other not long ago, but before that, she was stationed in Alicante.

She puts a cup of coffee in front of him. There’s a still-full biscuit tin open on the coffee table. She sits across from him, in her days off clothing, looking like he disrupted her from a nap. Jace feels a bit guilty about that.

Despite the biscuits and the softness, the apartment feels Shadowhunter-like. There’s a weapons rack bolted to one of the walls, and he guesses there are blades hidden all over. It’s a studio, and he can see her bed from where he’s sitting. He feels like he’s intruding somewhere he shouldn’t be.

After calling her, she gave him her address. He came and he knocked at the door, and he, for some reason, broke down and cried. The tears are dry now, and he can feel the tightness where the wetness tugs on his skin. She’s surprisingly good at comforting people.

"I should be with Izzy and Alec, on a hunt."

Lydia shakes her head. "They can survive without you."

"It was supposed to be some stupid... an easy little hunt in Clary’s memory, or something. It was Izzy’s idea. I... I don’t want to do it."

"Well good. You’re not doing it," Lydia points out.

"I still... they’re going to ask me where I was, and I’m not going to lie, you know? I can’t lie to them."

Lydia looks at him with a raised eyebrow and he realizes how what he said sounds.

He closes his eyes for a second, and when he opens them, explains why he sounds like a douche. "I haven’t told them about me getting coffee with you. I haven’t told them we’ve been texting back and forth for weeks and you’re kinda the one person that has allowed me to... move." Jace sighs, licks his lips, takes a sip of coffee. "I don’t want to hurt them. I don’t want them to believe that their support isn’t enough. So I’m keeping this... thing between us quiet."

"This... thing. Between us," Lydia repeats after him. Her words are slow and whispered and he could have missed them if he wasn’t careful.

"Comfort. Support. Warmth. I don’t know what to call it."

Lydia takes a deep breath and sighs. "I don’t know either."

They fall silent after that. Her hands are wrapped around her coffee cup tightly, and she looks down a little. Jace looks at her, when she can’t see he is. She’s... quiet, when she’s home. He likes it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed this!
> 
> Shoot me an ask or a DM on my tumblr @enkelimagnus, or reach me on my Twitter @enkelimagnus!  
I have anons on and curiouscat so don't be shy!


	10. Ginger Ale

Maia has thought about telling Simon that Clary came to the Hunter’s Moon on the night of her birthday. She’s thought about what it could mean, about the way he would feel upon knowing that his best friend might be regaining some sort of memory. She’s also thought about what it would be like for him, if it was just a coincidence, if Clary walked in because there was a light and she was lonely. 

She hasn’t told him. She doesn’t know if she’ll ever tell him now. 

She’s taking a small break in the supply room, grabbing her phone and texting Bat to ask him where everything is at with a specific pack member who has been a bit annoyed at her leadership. Being Alpha is much more tiring than she expected it to be. 

She grabs the crate of stuff she actually needs to bring back from the supply room and pushes open the door, going back to the bar. She’s not expecting for someone to be waiting for her, it’s the middle of the day, and she’s there alone. 

Yet, here she is. Standing next to the counter, looking around the bar. Her hazel eyes fix Maia as she walks in. Maia swallows. She actually didn’t expect Clary to come back after her birthday celebration. 

“You!” Clary says, and Maia almost freezes in her tracks. “I was searching for you.” 

Maia swallows again and walks behind the counter, sets the crate down, and stats pulling bottles of liquor out of it. She really tries to focus on that to calm down her nerves.

“Something’s wrong?” She asks eventually, looking up at the red-haired woman. Her arms are crossed, and she’s looking at her firmly. 

“No, I just… There was something happening here.”

Maia raises an eyebrow. “Something happening here? I mean, this is a regular… bar. Nothing out of the ordinary except maybe the very occasional bar fight.” 

Clary seems to struggle with that. She looks around again, looking for something. Her eyes stop on the pool table for a few seconds but she looks away again. She doesn’t seem to be able to focus on much. 

“Are you okay?” Maia blurts out, unable to help herself. Clary looks back at her, her eyes unfocused slightly. Maia reaches for a glass and fills it with ginger ale, sliding it towards her. “Have a drink.” 

“You know what I like,” Clary replies. “You knew, on my birthday, and you know again.” 

“I’m a bartender. My job is to know what clients like. And you can’t really go wrong with a ginger ale.” 

Clary frowns, and sits down on a high stool, sipping on her ginger ale. Maia feels terrible. She feels terrible because she’s lying to Clary, she’s lying and perpetuating the confusion that seems to plague the young woman. 

“So, what do you do?” Maia asks. 

“Student,” Clary replies. “Brooklyn Academy of Arts.” 

Maia hums. “That’s a long way away. We’re in Chinatown.” 

“I know that,” Clary huffs and takes another sip of her drink. “I don’t know how I ended up here on my birthday. It was… I kinda kept walking and then ended up here.”

Maia nods. She doesn’t really know what to tell her, how to reassure her. Clary seems so lost, and Maia has to admit it’s breaking her heart. 

Clary and her were never friends. They’d been close to what someone could call friends at one point, but it just hadn’t happened, especially after Maia and Simon had broken up, and Clary’s world and hers had become very separate. The, however small, connection between them had just broken, without much resistance. 

Clary’s birthday had actually been the first time Maia had seen the woman since… since Maia had come to the Institute with Simon to try to find out what the mark on his forehead was. She’d been aware of what had happened to Clary afterwards, barely, through Simon for a week or so. Then, it had been very rare to hear from her. Simon had eventually told her Clary had lost her memories, but that had been almost two months after that had happened. 

They weren’t close, far from it. Clary probably remembers the Hunter’s Moon, way more than she remembers Maia. 

Eventually, Clary stands up, and takes some money out of her wallet. 

Maia shakes her head. “On the house.” 

“You can’t say that every time I come here,” Clary points out. 

“You’ve only been here twice,” Maia reminds her. “So…” She pushes the bills that Clary put on the table back to her. “Come on. You’re a student. And an artist.”

Clary opens her mouth to refuse, but closes it again. She takes the money back and smiles at Maia. “Thanks. I didn’t catch your name.” 

“It’s Maia,” she replies, licking her lips. 

“Clary,” Clary nods. “Nice to meet you, Maia.” 

“Nice to meet you too.” 

Maia watches her grab her messenger back from the floor and walk out of the Hunter’s Moon. Guilt eats away at her. She wishes she could tell Clary that she has been there more than once, that they know each other, that they aren’t friends but it’s not important. That Clary’s okay, she’s not crazy, the things she feels aren’t wrong. She knows the Hunter’s Moon. She had first dates here, she celebrated winning a war here. She was happy here. 

She can be happy here again. She doesn’t need to be in pain, to be lost or hurt. 

Maia grabs the glass and cleans it thoroughly, trying to keep herself from feeling as bad as she feels. Clary deserves better, and Maia wishes she could take away her confusion. She wishes she could do something about her pain. It’s stupid, really. It’s not her role. 

It should be Simon, or Jace, or Luke, or Izzy. Even Alec and Magnus have more of a claim on taking her pain away than Maia does. And yet, here she stands, staring at the door that closed behind Clary, and thinking that maybe, if she comes back, Maia can help.   
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed this!
> 
> Shoot me an ask or a DM on my tumblr @enkelimagnus, or reach me on my Twitter @enkelimagnus!  
I have anons on and curiouscat so don't be shy!


	11. Opening

“You missed the memorial hunt,” Alec says quietly, leaning against the doorframe of Jace’s bedroom. 

Jace was expecting this to happen. Alec and Magnus have been staying in New York for a few days after the birthday party, and Jace couldn’t hide away for that long at Lydia’s apartment, even if he had slept over for two nights. Her couch was very uncomfortable, he recalls. 

“I know,” he replies. “I noticed.”

He doesn’t really want to think about all of that. About memorials and such. They have done a memorial hunt before, half of the Institute coming with them to kill in her memory, and Jace slayed dozens of demons that night, in his pain and rage. He would have slayed Raziel himself if the Angel had been on Earth. 

Now, he thinks of Clary and how she wasn’t the kind of have wanted a hunt in her memory. He’s unable to do it too, because he doesn’t want to start doing memorial hunts every time he has something to remember. Their first kiss, their first date, their first training, their first hunt, their first time. Too many things; too many fucking hunts. 

“You’re hurting, I can feel it,” Alec points out. 

“I know you can, Alec,” Jace replies. “You’re busy though, and you have a life.”

“You’re my brother, and my parabatai, I’m not too busy to hear what’s going on with you. To show you I’m there for you.” The door of the bedroom closes and Alec walks to Jace, sits down on the bed next to him. “Come on, dude. Talk to me.” 

Jace sighs. He doesn’t really want to repeat the same story again. He’s told it to Magnus and Lydia, and telling it to Alec too seems repetitive, but it’s not like Alec knows, exactly. 

“I’m just… mourning. It took me a while longer than you guys, but it’s finally happening,” Jace says. “I think I just… the birthday thing, the memorial hunt, it felt counterproductive.” He wasn’t expecting himself to be this good at putting words on his feelings right now. 

Alec hums next to him. “I get it. Sorry for asking you to do it.” 

“No, it’s fine. I wasn’t expecting it to hit the way it did either, you know? I just thought it would be yet another day,” Jace shrugs and looks at the wall in front of him. “And… you don’t have to worry. I wasn’t out there drinking myself into a coma for two nights.” 

“Where were you?” The  _ We worried  _ is implied with such strength behind the question that Alec should have just said it out loud. 

Jace takes a deep breath. “Lydia’s.” 

Alec is silent for a moment. Jace has a bit of a smile as he looks up, and watches his brother try to compute what he has just said. Yes. Lydia and the Lightwoods have a complicated history. And Jace wouldn’t have expected himself to be spending nights on her couch while mourning Clary. 

“That’s… Honestly, you could have told me Kaelie was back from the dead and you were with her and it would be easier to believe,” Alec chuckles, and Jace knows he’s only somewhat kidding. 

“I know, I know,” Jace nods. “Hard to believe.” 

“How did that happen? You and… her?” Alec asks. 

Jace holds up a hand. “Alright, first of all, there’s no me and Lydia. I slept on her couch, entirely platonic, etc.” Alec nods, prompting him to keep going. “And the rest… The last time I went to visit you in Alicante, I bumped into her and we talked. Turns out she knows a bunch about losing the love of your life.” 

“I remember that. John Monteverde. She used that to justify torturing Meliorn,” he points out. 

Jace nods. “She sure did. She’s trying her best, and honestly, she hasn’t said a single inappropriate thing in front of me since we started chatting. Maybe she’s hiding it well, but I believe she’s changed.”

Alec looks down at his hands. “I’m glad you have someone to talk to, someone that gets it.” 

“I thought about… not telling any of you, ever. But… It’s just… I don’t want you guys to feel like I’m not getting the support I need from you. I just need to talk to someone that isn’t part of this whole deal. Someone from outside.”

Alec chuckles a little and looks at him. “Not judging. At all. And not feeling bad either. You do what’s best for you, you take care of yourself. I’ll always have your back when it comes to that. And… I’m proud of you.” 

Jace swallows. “You have nothing to be proud of,” he mutters and Alec basically shoves him down with his shoulder. 

“Shut up,” he says. “Last time you lost Clary, you trashed your bedroom, broke a mirror, made yourself bleed, and took reckless risks in the field. This time, you were angry, yes, but it’s better. And you’re opening up to people. I have everything to be proud of, you’re doing amazing.” 

Jace can’t help but smile at that. He can’t help but feel a little warm. “Thank you.” 

“Always,” Alec replies. “You’re my brother. I got you.” He stands up and looks at him. “You’re coming?” 

Jace stands up as well, nodding, and grabs his gear. He puts his phone in his pocket. 

“And you know,” Alec points out. “If it does… move towards a “you and her” situation? I think everyone here will be perfectly fine with it. Moving on isn’t a crime.” 

Jace swallows. “How do you feel, knowing that, when you die, Magnus will move on?” 

Alec shrugs. “If I ever die, I would want him to have a life. To find love again. I wouldn’t want to break his heart and to be responsible for him being completely miserable for the rest of his life.” 

Jace picks up on the conditional. He looks up at his brother for a moment, eyebrows raised but says nothing. Alec will share when he wants to share. In the meantime, they have other things to talk about. 

Alec hums. “So no. I don’t think Clary would hate you for moving on.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed this!
> 
> Shoot me an ask or a DM on my tumblr @enkelimagnus, or reach me on my Twitter @enkelimagnus!  
I have anons on and curiouscat so don't be shy!


	12. Prophetic Dreams?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: In this chapter, Izzy coerces Simon to bite her

_ They’re dancing. It’s some sort of party, and Izzy can’t really focus on the reason why they are here, what kind of party it is. The banners are blue. The lost have returned. She doesn’t know who the lost were, or how they returned, or why they are celebrating but they are.  _

_ Simon is surprisingly good at dancing. Here they are. Enjoying themselves and dancing. She can’t feel her feet though. Well, she can feel them, but they are unfocused.  _

_ Everything is unfocused, she finds, as she looks at herself, at Simon, at the world around them. The world around them is blurry. There is a burn in her hands, and she tries to focus on it to see what it is from.  _

_ Her head spins a little, and she feels sweaty and wrong and too hot. And too cold at the same time. Her heart beats too fast, her eyes fail to focus, or maybe her vision is just not what she expects it to be.  _

_ Her body doesn’t feel right. It feels wrong, and it feels like something is lacking. Simon holds her but she can barely feel it. She needs something to heighten her senses, because it’s… she’s not working correctly. She reaches for her stele, but it isn’t there.  _

_ She wants to activate all her runes, make the blurriness and the lack stop. She wants it to all to stop.  _

_ “Are you okay?” Simon asks, and his voice is too far away, unfocused, reverberating in her brain. She opens her mouth to answer but her voice chokes. She needs something. She needs…  _

_ In a flash, she sees it, she sees the fangs and Simon’s mouth against her wrist. She shakes her head. No. It’s not worth it. Isn’t it?  _

_ “I’m fine,” she whispers and takes a step back. His hands leave her waist and he looks at her. He has his worried frown on, and she hates it. She hates that he has to worry about her, she also hates that she’s thinking about him biting her.  _

_ She takes another step back, then, turns around and leaves. She runs away, almost, her hands are shaking, she’s suffocating, she’s too hot. She needs to feel cold, she needs to feel her heart slow down, she needs to feel her senses focus. Is this what being a vampire feels like? Focus?  _

_ The corridors around the cloisters where the party is happening are thankfully empty. Her shaky fingertips find the coolness of the stone and relief washes over her. She leans against the wall. Cool, steady. Somewhat like Simon. She likes that about Simon. Cool, and steady, and there.  _

_ “Izzy!”  _

_ Simon. Steady and there. Even when she doesn’t want him to be. He walks up to her as she rests her forehead against the stone.  _

_ “I’m fine,” she croaks. She’s not. She needs venom.  _

_ She hasn’t felt this type of craving in... over a year? She couldn’t remember the last time it had been this bad. She can feel it in her bones. The need. The hunger. The desire to be focused and cool and calm, the way yin fen, then vampire venom, had made her feel.  _

_ Simon’s hand is on her arm and she turns around. He’s worried and she hates it. She hates what’s happening to her, to them, how she can’t seem to get the craving out, to perfectly kick off the addiction. She should be able to. She should be much stronger than this. _

_ “What do you need?” Simon asks.  _

_ “Bite me.”  _

_ She hears herself say it more than she actually says it. Simon’s eyes are filled with shock, and worry and she looks at him and doesn’t feel like herself anymore. She takes him by surprise, grabs his arm and switches them over, slamming him against the wall.  _

_ “I told you to bite me,” she hisses, and she looks at him.  _

_ He’s scared. He’s scared of her. She has the cool hilt of a seraph blade in her hand. Its sharp edge is pressed against Simon’s throat.  _

_ “Izzy, don’t,” he whispers.  _

_ She feels herself press the blade against his skin more. It’s threatening to tear it. He’ll die if it does. She sees the moment he gives in, the moment the fear of death takes over and he opens his mouth. His fangs extend. She doesn’t drop the blade.  _

_ She presses her other wrist to his mouth. Pain and pleasure wash over her in tandem as she forces him to bite her, and everything is alright again.  _

A sudden police siren outside forces Izzy awake. Her entire body is shaking, and she’s drenched in a pool of her own sweat. She reaches over to the left, and the bed is empty and cold. She’s glad she won’t have to explain that to him. 

She’s alone in their apartment, Simon working night patrol with the rest of the Downworld Deputies. 

She sits up and runs a hand through her hair. It feels like déjà-vu. It’s a memory of when she was suffering from withdrawal that makes her shudder. Somehow, it’s back. She wasn’t expecting it to be, she wasn’t expecting to have symptoms again, after such a long time of normalcy. 

She stands up, and her limbs feel weak, she almost stumbles to the ground before catching herself. She needs a shower and some clean pjs, and a snack. Something sugary that will calm her cravings. She knows what to do about her state. 

What she doesn’t know, is how to deal with the craving. She can’t start avoiding Simon, or other vampires. She can’t eat her weight in candy bars every day to somehow keep it at bay. She can’t live like this, simply. 

She guesses she should do something. She should… find a way to take this out of her life. But she doesn’t want to take Simon out of her life. She’s… content with Simon. She has companionship, and the idea of losing that, of coming home to an empty bed, of moving back into the Institute is terrifying.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed this!
> 
> Shoot me an ask or a DM on my tumblr @enkelimagnus, or reach me on my Twitter @enkelimagnus!  
I have anons on and curiouscat so don't be shy!


	13. This Time, with Laughter

The Hunter’s Moon hasn’t been privatized and it feels just like old times. Just like the day where they defeated Valentine, or the day where Simon was having a concert. It feels like everyone is having a good time and being with family. 

Jace likes this much more than he liked Clary’s party. It’s happier. And it’s filled with people that aren’t sad all the time, or crying. It makes it easier for him to breathe when it’s like that. It makes him feel… less guilty about moving forward. 

He still feels guilty, of course. But seeing everyone smile makes him feel like he isn’t alone in moving, and that’s what’s the most important to him right now. Feeling like he’s not the only one in this situation. 

Alec has portalled back earlier and he looks much happier than Jace has ever seen him. Every time he comes back to New York, Jace feels the parabatai bond more. The connection is heightened, or at least it feels like it is. He’s accepted the distance and the dullness of the shared feelings as the new normal. 

Alec and Magnus are at the table they reserved, engrossed in a conversation with Maryse and Luke. Jace feels so warm and content as he sees his family like this. Izzy has come as well, but she’s come alone, and left Simon in charge of the Institute for the night. 

Underhill - Jace can’t get himself to call him Andrew no matter how hard he tries - is listening to the conversations. Aline and Helen are on their way from the Institute. They’ve been dating steadily basically since the day they’ve met. It’s very impressive, even for Jace. 

Everything is alright. Everyone is happy. They are laughing, and eating some greasy food. It’s a birthday in both the mundane and the Shadowhunter sense. Alec is probably going to get a work-related present. The party is mostly mundane. 

Alec stands from his seat and walks to where Jace is, at the bar, getting drinks for everyone. 

“How’s the man of the hour?” Jace asks as his brother smiles at him. 

Alec waves the compliment off. “I’m good. Food and drinks with family is the best way to spend this kind of day.” 

Jace nods and looks over at the table for a second. It’s missing Clary’s red hair, but he knows it won’t happen. She won’t come. She doesn’t belong in their world, not anymore, and Jace has accepted that, at least partly. He doesn’t expect to see her at the table. 

“You know, I was surprised when you said you were coming alone,” Alec points out, playing with his wedding band a little. 

Jace huffs and shakes his head. “It wouldn’t really be appropriate to ask Lydia to come to your birthday party.”

Alec rolls his eyes. “You’ve done it before. Bringing your… friend to a family event. It’s a bit like your MO.”

Jace nods. “I know. But… well, first Lydia and I aren’t… doing that. We’re actually just friends. And second of all, she’s not loved by anyone here. You and Magnus probably have a very solid grudge against her. Mom and her never really got along when they were around each other. Same with Luke. And she did prosecute Izzy.” 

“So it’s good you didn’t bring her today,” Alec hums. “I think you’d need to at least warn everyone before dropping that bomb.” 

“You’re surprisingly more accepting of a possible relationship between me and Lydia than I was expecting you to be.”

Alec chuckles, and grabs some of the drinks the bartender puts on the counter. Maia isn’t the one working there today. She has a lot on her plate, as far as Jace knows. 

“I learned a long time ago, that stopping you from doing what you wanted was a lost cause. At least when it comes to relationships, or other non… life-threatening things. And people can change. Lydia… was quite anti-Downworlder. Hopefully she has changed. I don’t blame her for anything else. The wedding… I proposed. I wasn’t forced into it. It was my choice. Not a great choice, for me, personally, but a choice that still made sense. So… I mean, bring her out next time, after making sure everyone is up for that.” 

Jace thanks him. He doesn’t know why exactly he thanks him, but he does. Alec slaps his back a little and goes back to the table, and start the conversation again. Jace gathers the rest of the drinks and gets them back to the table. 

Luke’s arm is draped comfortably over Maryse’s shoulders. Jace marvels still at the relaxed slope of his mom’s shoulders, and how she seems so different. She looks younger, and happier. Imagining Luke and her together had been strange at first, but now, Jace was… so happy for them. 

Underhill and Izzy are engrossed in talking about work. These two cannot seem to stop working. Izzy has always been very passionate about work, but it’s getting more and more… worrying. For some reason, she’s been working more and more in the last couple of weeks. Jace makes a mental note to have a chat with her, and with Simon. He knows Simon isn’t her keeper, but he still takes care of her in a way. And he lives with her. If anyone has noticed anything, it’s probably him.

Jace sits down and relaxes as well. Alcohol makes him warm and everything seems to be good. Alec and Magnus kiss as a chocolate cake is put down on the table in front of them. The candles read 24. Jace forgets how old they are sometimes. He forgets how they shouldn’t be as advanced in life and career as they are.

They laugh and sing Happy Birthday off key. A few other people in the bar join in. Jace feels warm. Alec looks incredibly happy. Clary is missed, slightly, but Jace doesn’t feel the gaping hole he usually feels. He doesn’t know if it’s due to alcohol or something else. Probably not alcohol. It has never done anything to dull his pains. 


	14. Irish Cream

Her mascara is a bit smudged under her eyes. Maia notices that first as Clary sits at the bar of the Hunter’s Moon. Clary’s still beautiful, obviously, but the sadness and pain in her eyes make her look terrible too. She looks heartbroken. Maia recognizes that look somewhat. It’s the same Simon had on his face when he told her Clary was gone. 

Clary asks for a beer with a croaky voice. She’s been crying. Maia feels a very strong sudden need to protect her, and she’s absolutely not used to that. 

“Wait, I have something better for what you’ve got,” she says. She grabs some hot water and fills a mug with it. She feels the enamelled metal warm under her hands and when it reaches peak warmth, she pours the water out. 

She feels it at three quarters with hot coffee, then adds two teaspoons of sugar - one of granulated white sugar and one of brown sugar. Clary watches her, silent. Maia adds one and a half ounces of alcohol, half Irish Whiskey and half Bailey’s. She tops it with whipped cream and a maraschino cherry. 

“Irish Cream Coffee, warm and spiked.”

Clary licks her lips and smiles. “Thank you, Maia.” 

“Just doing my job,” Maia replies. One of the waiters bring her a ticket and she starts making coffees and pouring beers. It’s the end of the afternoon, and it’s that time where alcohol is getting more and more served. 

She notices somewhat that Clary’s wearing a strangely formal dress. It’s long, black, and hits below her knees, covering her shoulders. The sleeves end at her elbows, and the neckline is high. It’s probably the most demure thing Maia has ever seen Clary wear. Clary doesn’t show that much skin, but when she dresses up, she still shows a bit of cleavage. 

That and the crying… 

It clicks in Maia’s head at some point, and she doesn’t really know how she realizes it, but it makes sense. Clary’s been at a cemetery. She’s dressed formally and she’s crying, and Maia has been to enough mundane funerals to know what they are like. 

She works and fills her order, but she’s a bit distracted by the red-haired woman who is sipping on her Irish Cream Coffee. She looks miserable. Maia wants to comfort her. She has a hunch this might be about the people she lost with her memories. 

When she’s done with the orders, she moves back to the spot where Clary is and starts cleaning some glasses. After a few moments of pretending not to look at her, she looks up and smiles a little at Clary. 

“Are you alright? You look like you’ve been through it.”

Clary huffs slightly with a tiredness in her expression that makes Maia’s heart tighten in her chest. “It’s been a hard year.” 

“I’m there if you need to talk,” Maia says softly, trying to coax her into sharing. 

Clary raises an eyebrow and her hand, pointing at a neon sign behind Maia that reads ‘Bartender, not Therapist’. Maia chuckles. She’s kinda forgotten about that. She remembers how hard it had been for her to get her boss to put the sign up. It had saved her a lot of time though. 

“That only applies if I haven’t allowed you to tell me about your worries,” Maia explains. “Come on.”

Clary sips on her mug and hums. It takes a few moments and a few more sips before she opens her mouth and starts talking. 

“This is going to sound like I’m crazy, so just… humor me,” she starts, and Maia nods at her, reassuringly. “I… I have almost 3 months missing from my memory. I remember my eighteenth birthday, and then nothing, until I “woke up” in a park, in November, wearing a party dress. Then I learned that almost 3 months had passed, that my mother and the man I considered my father were dead, and so was my best friend. My friends were gone, my home had been burnt down, and I had no one, and no memory.”

Oof. The way she speaks, the list she goes through, Maia can tell that it’s been much harder for her than she lets on. 

“Oh, and my body was kinda different, I have way more muscles than I expected, and also somehow a couple of scars I don’t remember getting,” Clary stops for a moment and takes a big sip of her mug. “And today’s Rosh Hashanah. Jewish New Year. And my best friend is dead, and I visited his grave, and it’s just… I don’t remember him dying. His mom and sister moved away to Florida, and it seems like I wasn’t at the funeral, because his mom is mad at me.” 

Maia opens her mouth and closes it. She doesn’t know exactly what to say. She can’t tell her the truth, it would put everyone in danger. She wishes she could, because the pain she can see in those gorgeous hazel-green eyes is heart-breaking. 

“I went to the cemetery. And… he died on his birthday,” Clary whispers. “It broke me. That… that broke me. I miss him  _ so much. _ ”

“I’m sure, wherever he is, he’s looking over you and he loves you still very much,” Maia replies. “I’m certain… that he’s proud of what you’re doing. And that he’s there with you, every step of the way.”

She keeps her voice from shaking. That thing, that… almost cliché speech about her best friend, it’s the truth. Simon’s watching, Simon’s proud, and she wishes she could tell her he’s alive and well. Or, undead and well. 

That speech doesn’t always work for everyone. Maia can’t stand the idea of Jordan still being there and watching her, for example. No matter how in pain and sad she was when he died, it’s been ten months and she’s much better off without him. 

Clary nods. “I don’t know. It’s like… sometimes, I feel like someone’s watching me, and I… I hope it’s him. Or my mom. Or Luke. I don’t know, someone who loves me.”

“I’m sure it’s them,” Maia whispers. She knows it’s more likely to be Jace than any of the others. Simon is trying to stay away as much as possible, and Luke has been in Brazil for months. And well. Jocelyn Fairchild is very much dead. 

“How can you be so sure?” Clary asks quietly. 

Maia sighs. “You look like the type of person that would have all the angels in Heaven watching over her.” 


	15. Broken Wedding Bells

Something Simon both loves and hates about Yom Kippur is the reflection part. It’s maybe one of the most important parts of it too. When he was little, the most important part of Yom Kippur was the pastries baked for the breaking of the fast. His grandmother’s chocolate cake with chocolate glaze still makes him salivate. 

Now, his breaking fast dinner is his favorite type of blood. He misses food a lot, more than he admits, and especially on holidays. Hanukkah is going to come, and with it the memories of fried oily foods, of oil and fat and sugar mixing in the most delicious and unhealthy combo imaginable. 

Last year’s was difficult, already. This year’s will seal this as his new reality. He is a vampire. And he cannot eat normal human food. He cannot participate with the feasting part of his culture. That hurts. 

He didn’t expect to have this hard of a time with his culture after turning. He’d expected some issues with G-d, and synagogues, but he’s been saying God and walking into synagogues with no real issue. 

It’s his personal relationship to his religion and culture that has suffered. After the loss of Clary, he found himself in a place where he could finally reflect and figure out where he belonged in the world. 

He found that, now that his family is in Florida, that he doesn’t feel at home in his community anymore. His link to his life, to his family, to the synagogue and people he’s known all his life, is irremediably severed. 

Rabbi Abromowitz thinks he’s dead. Simon knows because he remembers the empty casket and the tombstone, and his mother’s sobbing figure by the Rabbi’s side. So, after Clary’s “death”, he’d changed synagogues. And tried to be… normal around them. He’s become more practicing as a result, wrapping his tefillin every day now. He also wears a kippah more and more. 

Izzy finds it silly and he knows that. She always has that little look on her face. She’s not a very faith-oriented woman. It’s hard for her to be, when her culture doesn’t have doubt about the existence of the greater beings they fight for. 

It’s something that breaks them apart, religion. Something that might make some irreparable damage. Simon isn’t willing to let go of Judaism. Not for anyone, even for someone he loves. Izzy’s important. But she isn’t important enough. 

He walks through the streets of Brooklyn. It’s somewhat cold already, even for late September. When he was alive, his breath would form little clouds as he walked. He remembers being a kid and purposefully making bigger and thicker clouds. He can’t do that anymore. He’s dead. There are many things he can’t do anymore. 

His steps take him by a jewelry store and he stops. People can still see his reflection. He can still see his reflection. 

Izzy and him have been together a year. Last week, someone Simon trains and works with asks when they would get married. He didn’t want to admit that he hadn’t thought about it.

He has imagined it before. Marriage, the chuppah, the ketubah, and a glass for him to step on. He imagined himself with a white kippah and his tallit, ready to get married in the tradition of his people. He never questioned who he would get married to. Clary had somewhat been on the list. His bubbe had mentioned a good Jewish girl once or twice. 

He guesses Izzy would like a Shadowhunter wedding, complete with necklace and bracelet. She’s never been the most traditional of the Shadowhunters Simon knows, but he can somewhat feel that she has this image of a traditional wedding in her culture. The way he does about the Jewish wedding. 

If one day he proposes, he guesses it will have to be two weddings. Because he’s not giving up his culture for her. Maybe he should consider it. Maybe him not considering him is sign something is wrong. 

He’s been wondering about that. Why hasn’t he thought about marrying Izzy much? He had even imagined Clary as his bride a few times, red hair in a beautiful bun, white dress, everything. It should be the same with Izzy. Hell, it should be better. He should be much more willing to marry her. Especially since he’s basically said they are soulmates once or twice.

Something is up with him and Izzy, and he doesn’t know what. He can’t pinpoint it. She’s awesome, and they are compatible, in a lot of ways. She makes him feel so… warm and supported. She makes him feel like he has someone to turn to, and that’s something that has been lacking from his life. His family is gone, so is Clary, so is Luke, and so is most of the clan he used to like. But he’s got Izzy, and Jace, somewhat, so he’s okay. 

That isn’t exactly the best of reasons to get married one day. Companionship. It’s not the worst either. 

He keeps walking, leaves the engagement ring behind. Would Izzy even like a mundane engagement ring? She likes pretty things, and shiny jewels, like the necklace Magnus had given her, that she ended up turning into a bracelet. She likes rings too, she’s fashionable and feminine, and she would probably like a delicate ring. But for her, an engagement ring is a Family one, and Simon doesn’t have that.

Simon shakes his head and shakes the thoughts out. She’s not materialistic, and it’s wrong of him to think like that. Izzy is much more than her traditions and her vision of the world. She’s trying so hard to be better with other cultures and people. He has to believe that that will not be the reason they end. 

They have been together for a year. That’s more than all of Simon’s previous relationships combined and tripled. That has to count for something. It’s a testament of how well they work together. It’s a sign they are good for each other. Right? 


	16. Friday, 6.30pm

_ Drinks, you and I. Friday, 6.30pm. LB _

It’s early, but she told him she wants to get the Happy Hour deals. 

Jace re-reads the first message for the 15th time in the last few minutes. He’s surprised of it still, even if he received it days ago. He’s surprised of the directness of it all. He’s surprised at the nervous energy that has taken over his body. 

It’s the first time he’s going on a date since that… thing with Clary that ended up being a double date with Simon and Maia. That was incredibly awkward. Jace doesn’t want to end up in that position ever again. He imagines being on a double date with Lydia and Simon and Izzy and it feels weird. 

He’s standing outside of the Institute when he hears someone call his name. Lydia’s voice. He’s somewhat gotten used to it, barely. The sun is starting to set behind the skyscrapers and she’s coming towards him. 

Lydia’s hair is loose and flowing. She’s wearing tight jeans and a black shirt that’s somewhat blousy. She has heels on. He notices light makeup and some simple jewelry. She looks beautiful. He wasn’t expecting that. 

She smiles at him serenely and he can’t help but smile back. 

“Good evening,” Lydia smiles. “Ready for a fun time?” 

Jace breathes out and nods. “I haven’t taken a night off in a while,” he admits. “I actually think I need this.” 

They start walking, Jace following her lead. It was her plan. She’s the only one who knows where they are going. He feels a giddiness that he hasn’t felt in a while. He feels relaxed too. Like he can breathe a little easier than usual. 

Something about Lydia makes breathing easier. 

They walk over a few blocks, in a somewhat comfortable silence. He gives her his arm when he realizes that she’s wearing heels. Being raised with Isabelle Lightwood means knowing that giving your arm to a girl wearing heels is a good move.

The bar they stop at is a bit unexpected. The walls of the building are white on the first floor, then typical New York brick above. The doorways and windows are lined with wood, and there are dozens of potted plants, with even some climbing ones, decorating the outside. 

It’s casual-looking. That makes Jace a little more comfortable. He’s not that good with very fancy mundane places. 

He holds the door for Lydia and walks into the bar behind her. They are seated at a two-person table next to a bigger communal one. There’s a flower in a little repurposed yoghurt jar in the center of the wooden table. 

“You know what this place is called?” Lydia asks. There’s a sweet hint of amusement in her tone, and her eyes are playfully looking at him. 

Jace shakes his head. “I don’t. I’ve never been here.” 

Lydia opens her mouth to reply. Jace looks down at the pieces of cardboard-ish paper that are laying on the table, neat typewriter-like script in black ink on the almost brown paper. The only words that aren’t in that font are the name of the bar. 

_ The Wayland.  _

He looks up at her with a smile that sensibly stretches his lips. “Did you choose this place on purpose?” He asks, grinning still. 

She grins back, full of teeth and mischief and he knows the answer before she speaks. “Yes.” 

“Unbelievable,” Jace shakes his head, a chuckle in his voice, his entire being somewhat buzzing with amusement. She looks at him still, obviously satisfied of his reaction. 

“I thought you’d enjoy the throwback to your old identity. When you were still just a random Shadowhunter and not the last of the Herondale Family,” Lydia teases. 

“Is that your way of telling me I got a big head?” Jace replies, raising an eyebrow. 

Lydia giggles, shaking her head. “I would  _ never _ .” 

Jace rolls his eyes and focuses on one of the menus. There’s one for Happy Hour, one for drinks, and one for food. His eyes zero in on the oysters. He’s always had a thing for seafood. 

“Do you like oysters?” Jace asks bluntly. Alec does, but Izzy doesn’t. It’s actually rare for Jace to eat some, despite the delight they are. He’s hoping he can eat some with her. 

Lydia looks up at him. “They have oysters?” She asks, and she’s smiling in a way that makes him believe she likes them too. 

“They do. They have a happy hour special with some alcohol shooters, or a $1 piece thing.” 

Lydia humms. “We should get 12. And then we’ll see. And some cocktails. Let’s have fun, it’s our night off.” 

He’s not expecting that. He’s expecting her to be straight-laced but she wants strong alcohol and oysters and a good time.

Some music is playing in the bar and Jace stands up to order. 12 oysters, a Pearls of the East cocktail for her, and a Moxie Stirred for him. He tried to convince her to get one called the Kiwipedia but she was much more into the vodka base of the Pearls of the East. 

He goes back to sit. They get their food and drinks soon after. 

“So. What are we cheering to?” Jace asks as he holds his glass up. 

Lydia thinks for a while, eyes focused on her glass before she goes back to looking at him. “Oysters. Good company. And… new beginnings?” The last words are a bit hesitant. 

Jace nods immediately though, no hesitation. “To oysters, good company and new beginnings.” 

Their glasses clink as they hit. The bourbon and cynar hit his taste buds right after and he finds himself smiling still. His shoulders relax, almost suddenly. Lydia grabs an oyster, nudges it off of its foot with the fork and brings the shell to her mouth. She tilts her head back as she eats it.

“Good?” He asks as she chews. She nods, savoring the taste. She looks warm and beautiful. The sunlight is diminishing and the artificial light of the lightbulbs take over. The light around them is more golden.

\---------------

He drops her off at her apartment three hours later. It’s nighttime now for sure, but Manhattan is never truly dark, and her smile is bright too. He doesn’t remember the last time he’s felt this warm. Maybe it is the alcohol and the food they ate. 

“This was… wonderful,” she says as she stands in front of the door of her building. It feels strange to be like this, standing a bit awkwardly as the laughter of the evening bleeds away. “Are you going to be alright going home?” 

Jace nods. “It’s not far,” he shrugs. “It was great. I really… I needed this.” 

Lydia smiles at him. “I did too.” 

She moves towards him with a smile. She gets on the top of her toes and kisses his cheek gently. Her breath smells like vodka a little. She also smells like perfume. He doesn’t really want to go back to the Institute after this, but he’s not going to ask to stay at her place. It’s entirely inappropriate. 

“Text me when you’re home.” 

Jace nods. “Sleep well,” he says. She opens the door and he starts walking away. 

He texts her to tell her he’s home safe the second he walks into the circle of the wards. 

It’s only once he’s laying in bed, eyes closed and sighing, that he realizes he hasn’t thought about Clary once throughout the evening. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed this!
> 
> Shoot me an ask or a DM on my tumblr @enkelimagnus, or reach me on my Twitter @enkelimagnus!  
I have anons on and curiouscat so don't be shy!


	17. Yahrzeit

Simon feels like a creep. He’s following the group of people from afar. All dressed in dark colors the way that’s respectful to do right now. It’s Yahrzeit. The first one, at that, and it’s somewhat important. 

His mom’s hair is up. She’s solemn as ever. She’s tanner too, from the sun of Miami where she now lives with Bubbe Helen and Rebecca. The two other women are there too, Rebecca sometimes looking around to see if she can spot him. 

He told her he would be around as they went to the cemetery and commemorated both his anniversary of death and his birthday. He didn’t tell her he’d be walking on the roofs to follow them quietly as they did so. 

In the Gregorian calendar, the anniversary of his death is in around two weeks. In two weeks, it will be one secular year since he supposedly died in a car accident so horrible that they never found the body. It’s a little hard to believe, and Simon doesn’t exactly know how the state reacted to the news, but it’s what everyone except Rebecca believes.

Rabbi Abromowitz is walking with Bubbe Helen, holding her arm as she walks slowly down the road to the cemetery. They’d taken cars to get closer to the cemetery, which was on the other side of Brooklyn. 

Simon has been there only once since the day he’d told his mother he was dead. It had been right after Clary had disappeared. He’d read the letter she’d left for him, and he’d gone to the grave for a moment. He’d waited for days, until he’d seen her. He’d seen her come and sob in front of his grave, sob because of the death of her best friend, that she didn’t remember. 

He remembers how the gravestone is. He remembers the broken tree and the guitar that are stylized on the top of it, in between a writing of ‘Here Lies’ in Hebrew. He also remembers his name, both his Hebrew name, Simon Ben Binyamin Ha-Levi, in Hebrew, and his secular name, Simon Lewis. 

They make it to the gate of the cemetery and Simon’s heart stops. 

Standing there, in a dark dress and with her red hair up as well, is Clary. She looks tired and sad and Simon forgot that she would probably be there. After all, she is probably trying to make up for not being there at his burial. 

His burial happened while Clary was in Siberia and Paris with Jonathan. She not only wasn’t in the country, but she also knew that Simon is alive. She doesn’t know he is anymore, so she’s there. 

Fuck the Angels. Wherever they may be, he knows they might be listening. Fuck them, and fuck what they did to Clary. To him. To Jace, and Izzy, and Luke. Luke has escaped the pain by going to Brazil with Maryse and only coming back for a short visit around Clary’s birthday. He understands the desire to run away. 

He slips into the cemetery behind there, walks through the graves in a parallel path to the small group of dark fabric-clad people that he loves, and stops at a great tree that vaguely overlooks the plot with his grave, and his father’s. 

He watches his family grieve and he hates every second of it. He’s still only 19. He was supposed to have at least a decade before people started to wonder why he didn’t age. He was supposed to have even longer before having to say goodbye to his family. 

He’s glad he has Rebecca, of course. She helps, a lot, with giving him news of his mom and grandma and helping them deal with it all, but seeing his mother cry right now is almost too much. 

He’s glad Heidi’s dead. He’s so glad that Maia killed her, even if he still doesn’t really agree with the violence of it. He would rather have known Heidi was dead at the hands of the Clave than at the hands of his friend, and ex-girlfriend. 

Simon lost his mom because of Heidi. He can’t stand that thought. He also should have been able to control himself more, to not attack his sister, but between Clary being arrested by the Clave, the Seelie Queen and the Mark of Cain and Maia leaving for Ocean City because of Jordan… There was too much for him to deal with. He failed. And he hurt Rebecca. The fact she forgave him is something he still doesn’t understand. He attacked her, like an animal, and almost killed her. He’s glad Izzy was around to pull him back. 

He wishes his mom could know Izzy. He thinks she would like her. He honestly can’t believe their first year anniversary is coming and Elaine doesn’t know about Izzy. It feels wrong. He always imagined Elaine knowing everything about the women in his life. She’d known about Clary, even as Clary had no idea he was half in love with her. She’d known about Maia.

She would never know about Izzy. 

Simon watches his family cry, and he keeps himself from thinking of all the things that they will never know about him, and his life. 

If he was planning on marrying Izzy, they wouldn’t know about it. Bubbe Helen wouldn’t get to complain about how she’s not Jewish and the mess that will be being interfaith. And the mess that will be living together and being buried together. Even if Simon knows he’ll never be buried. If he dies, he’ll disappear. He’s seen vampires die. They don’t leave a body behind.

Maybe it’s a good thing that there is this gravestone for people to remember him by. 

His mom and the rabbi recite the Mourner’s kaddish. Bubbe Helen is crying. Simon forces himself to stay hidden. He has never wanted to get to them and tell him he’s alive as much as he does now. Clary and Bubbe Helen hug. 

Simon forces himself to take a step back, and then another. When he looks up, Clary is staring in his general direction. He panics and runs away, as fast as his vampire speed allows him to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed this!
> 
> Shoot me an ask or a DM on my tumblr @enkelimagnus, or reach me on my Twitter @enkelimagnus!  
I have anons on and curiouscat so don't be shy!


	18. Invitation

Maia knows this is a bad idea. 

She’s standing in front of the door of Clary’s building, and God, she knows it’s a bad idea. She knows she should have found her number and called her or something. She knows she should have sent literally anyone else to her door to give her her wallet back. 

The wallet is a simple leather one, that many people would call masculine and utilitarian. Foldable, two parts, black leather, scuffed by use. She might have found it in a thrift store, or in the ruins of what used to be her home. 

Maia has been standing in front of the building for what seems what hours now, and she doesn’t want to check the time and know how long she’s been a creep for. 

For all she knows, Clary might not even be in right now. She could be in class, at the Brooklyn Academy of Art, or at someone’s place. 

Or maybe she couldn’t get into class because her student ID is in the wallet Maia has in her hand right. 

It feels wrong to be standing here right now. She still hasn’t told Simon that Clary has been coming to the Hunter’s Moon at least once a week for over a month. She still hasn’t told him of how she misses him. She still hasn’t told him of Clary’s pain and Clary’s smile and how Maia has been looking forward to her visits every time more. 

Maia knows that is an even worse idea. She can’t tell him that Clary’s smile make her smile and that yes, she can now confirm that she used to crush on her before everything, and through her dating him. 

Maia can’t tell him that from the way Clary speaks to her, she’s either oblivious, very unaware of how she sounds, or flirting with her.

She presses her finger to the doorbell next to “Fray”. Clary doesn’t remember having any other name than Fray. She doesn’t remember the untainted Fairchild or the shameful Morgenstern. She doesn’t remember the way they were first introduced, Maia’s lips snarling insults at everyone holding the Morgenstern name, at the man Clary believed was her blood, at the man she loved. No. Clary still loves Jace. 

Maia knows it, because Clary’s told her of the way she can’t seem to date. How it’s like she’s waiting for someone. And how for almost a year, until her birthday, she dreamt of a blonde man with a cheeky smile. 

Jace is also someone that is holding Maia back from leaning into the flirting. Clary still loves him. And he definitely still loves her, at least Simon says so. Simon says he’s been escaping the Institute more and more lately. He’s caught him around her apartment too. 

Maia looks around herself. She can’t see, or smell, closeby vampire. Good. She doesn’t want to explain to Simon why she’s here. 

The door opens and Maia is startled. It took Clary a while to get the door and she was so deep in thought she forgot she’s rang in the first place. 

“Maia?” Clary’s surprised. 

Her hair is down, her fringe messy. Maia doesn’t know if she can get used to that. The fringe of hair baring Clary’s forehead. It makes her look like a different person. It makes the clearness of Maia’s resolve not to let herself crush blur. 

“Hey,” Maia breathes and holds the wallet up. 

Clary exhales a sigh of relief and grabs it from her hand. Their fingertips touch. 

“I’m sorry for coming like this,” Maia explains, burying her hand in her pocket. “I didn’t know how else to reach you.” 

Clary waves her off. “Come in. It’s getting cold out there,” she says. 

Maia opens her mouth to refuse but Clary’s got that firm look in her eyes and she ends up stepping into the building. 

The building is a house that’s been separated into apartments. Clary’s apartment is upstairs, and the stairs are a couple of steps from the main door. Maia swallows as she’s led into her home. 

The room she walks in is messy. There’s a blanket on the couch that’s bunched up in a pile with a pillow and a towel. Paper everywhere. Books littering the floor. Clothes astrew in a corner of the room. Dirty dishes. Maia feels the need to tidy it all, to help Clary live better. 

“I’m very very sorry for the mess,” Clary chuckles. She’s wearing a sweater dress and socks, she looks young and normal. She’s far from the woman Maia used to know. 18 and a soldier despite herself. This Clary is a 19 year-old art student. 

Maia shakes her head. “It’s alright.” She points at the wallet. “I hope nothing’s missing. I promise I didn’t snatch anything.” 

“I trust you,” Clary replies in a heartbeat. “Also, give me your phone.” 

Maia complies. Clary grabs it, opens it, and starts typing. “I’m giving you my number,” she explains. 

Maia opens her mouth. She should have seen that coming. She’s tired from a long shift last night, a long day spent at Taki’s, and having to deal with two pack meetings in a week. 

“That way I’ll know how to contact you if you lose your wallet again,” Maia swallows. 

Clary chuckles and looks up at her, giving her her phone back. “Sure,” she grins, eyes fixed on Maia’s. “Safer this way.” 

Clary winks. 

Maia thinks she’s losing her mind and hallucinating. 

“Listen,” she goes. “You’re super sweet and all, but I have to get home. Long day. Long night…” 

“Oh yeah, yeah, go get your beauty sleep,” Clary smiles. “And…”

She turns around and starts rustling through piles of papers on her coffee table. Maia can see the circle-shaped stains of wet mugs on some of those sheets. Messy artist. Messy person who is forgetting half of her life and is not okay, too. 

Clary grabs a paper, a colorful flyer and shoves it in Maia’s general direction. Maia grabs it. ‘Brooklyn Academy of Art Student Exhibition’. 

“It’s just a small showcase. It’s… it happens next month. November 6th.”

Maia nods. “That seems fun. Not my usual scene.” She doesn’t know what to say. Is Clary asking her to be there? Is Clary basically asking her on a date? “I think I’m busy that day,” she adds, trying to manage the situation. “But… if you want me there, I can try to wiggle out of it?” 

Clary grins at her. “That would be awesome.” 

Maia nods again. She wants to scream. She wants to go to that exhibition too, but she knows it’s not her place. It’s Simon’s, or Jace’s. She should definitely tell them about it. 

She waves Clary goodbye and when the door slams shut behind her and she’s back in the early October weather, she can breathe out again. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed this!
> 
> Shoot me an ask or a DM on my tumblr @enkelimagnus, or reach me on my Twitter @enkelimagnus!  
I have anons on and curiouscat so don't be shy!


	19. I Want This

The clock is ticking down the seconds that walk him closer to the anniversary of Clary’s disappearance. It’s not a disappearance exactly, because he knows where she is. He knows her address and where she goes to school and her favorite Starbucks. He knows everything he can know about her life while being outside of it. 

He knows that in two days, she’ll be at the Brooklyn Academy of Art, in the exhibition hall, presenting her work to the public for the first time. Thanks to Maia, he knows. Jace didn’t ask Maia how she knew, but she probably found the flyer, somewhere between the Hunter’s Moon and Taki’s. People leave flyers. It makes sense. 

Jace spends the time in between him and the day and hour of both Clary’s exhibition and Clary’s disappearance busying himself. He works, schedules hunts and takes leads on many missions, and the rest of the time, he’s with Lydia. 

But it’s starting to get harder there too. Lydia’s more than just a friend. He realized it the day after they went get drinks at the Wayland, after the oysters and the laughter and the peacefulness. It’s still a bit hard to move forward. Jace doesn’t think it will ever be easy. But it has to happen. 

He’s not forcing it with Lydia. The affection for her comes easily, and so does the desire to kiss her. It’s not incredibly strong, not yet. He doesn’t dream about her at night, doesn’t dream of kissing her, making out and having sex. It’s not… sudden and intense and burning. 

It’s quiet. Gentle. Comfortable. It’s a desire that comes gently but doesn’t go away. It’s there as he lounges on her couch and watches the weird face of the character on the paused Netflix screen.

Lydia sits back down after setting a tray on the table. Beers and nems, gyozas, and various over steamed delicacies. He grabs the beer and takes a swing, it’s cold and good and he relaxes back against the couch with a sigh. She smiles at him, grabbing a nem and taking a bite of it. He puts the show back on. 

They watch the rest of the show, and they eat the plate of food. She’s funny as she complains regularly about the clothing of the main character and its impracticality. She makes him snort a laugh and almost choke himself with a sip of beer. She makes fun of him as he tries not to do a spit take. 

The episode ends too soon. They watch another. The afternoon bleeds into night around the second plate of steamed Japanese food and the second beer. He starts commenting on the action scenes, rolling his eyes at the motions and the drama of it all. 

“You’re the one to talk,” Lydia chuckles. “You and your backflips are legendary. I heard about them all the way to Alicante.” 

Jace laughs and rolls his eyes. He takes a sip of water, and puts a gyoza in his mouth. They are starting to get a little cold, but they are still delicious. 

He doesn’t love the atmosphere of Alicante. He’s been there a few times to visit Alec on his interim Inquisitor job and he’s had at least one betrothal proposal each time, either from parents or from the girls themselves.

He gets it, he’s a Herondale, the last Herondale at that, and he’s single. Lydia rolls her eyes at the stupid love declaration the characters are going through on the scrren. Well… He won’t be single for long. 

“Why do we keep watching this show?” Lydia asks as the second episode comes to an end. 

“Because of the amazing action scenes and compelling narrative?” Jace tries, even if he knows neither of these things are in the show they watch. 

Lydia laughs and shakes her head. She looks beautiful and happy and Jace still wants to kiss her. He wants to kiss her, and watch more Netflix, and be calm and happy and okay, the way he’s feeling now. He wants this to last. To become a regular thing. Their thing. The Wayland, Netflix and steamed food. Them. 

“You okay there?” She asks, staring back at him. She looks at the empty plate and empty bottles. “Ah. we should definitely get refills.” She starts standing up. 

He takes her hand, and stops her.

His hand slides underneath feather-light blonde locks and settles on the back of her head, cradling it as he presses his lips to hers. He hasn’t kissed anyone in a year. He hasn’t wanted to kiss anyone for almost a year, until she came into his life and became… important. 

Her lips kinda taste like beer, since it’s the last thing she ate or drank, and it’s nice. Her lips are soft too. Her hand is on his arm. 

Lydia kisses him back, gently, and there’s no resistance and no worry. It feels simple. It feels good. She moves back before he wants her to. He opens his eyes. She looks at him. Her eyes are soft, but serious.

“Are you sure?” She breathes out. 

“Sure of what?” 

“That you want this.”

“I want this.” He doesn’t hesitate. There is nothing for him to hesitate about. “Do you?”

Lydia doesn’t reply. She kisses him. She kisses him harder than he kissed her before, deeper, closer. She pulls him to her, and he comes closer, wrap an arm around her waist. He hasn’t been touched like that in too long. He hasn’t been… desired and kissed in too long. 

They gently fall against the couch. He holds her and she holds him back, looking at him with a grin that makes him feel a little weak in the knees. She’s a great kisser too. He kisses her again, thirsty now. He wants more of this, more of her. 

They kiss for a long time. Netflix sits on their TV, forgotten. Everything is forgotten. There is only kissing, lips against lips and body against body. The date, the past, the things that weigh on both of them are forgotten. The only thing that matters to Jace is Lydia.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed this!
> 
> Shoot me an ask or a DM on my tumblr @enkelimagnus, or reach me on my Twitter @enkelimagnus!  
I have anons on and curiouscat so don't be shy!


	20. All Good Things...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The timeline finally catches up to the show...

Luke walks through the corridors of the Gard with a comfortable smile on his lips. He feels like he belongs here. And he doesn’t want to think about how much he missed Alicante. He was happy as a wolf, but coming home to Idris and his family’s home was a relief. A parenthesis of his life, one forced upon him by Valentine, was over.

He walks past someone who nods at him respectfully. He doesn’t recognize them, but he knows they recognize him. The names and faces of those who helped bring down Jonathan Morgenstern and Valentine Morgenstern have been celebrated throughout the Shadowhunter World. 

He stops at the most heavily decorated door and knocks. The voice he’s waiting to hear calls for him to come in. He does.

“Mr. Inquisitor,” he nods as he walks into the room. 

Behind the desk, Alec Lightwood smiles at him. He looks a bit tired, more so than he was when he was Head of the Institute. 

“Interim, Lucian, Interim,” Alec chuckles and puts down the tablet he’s working on. “How was Brazil?” 

“Humid,” Luke replies. Alec calls him Lucian like his mother does. After all, he did go back to his Shadowhunter name. It makes sense that Alec would call him that. He doesn’t mind. He likes it, actually. He likes being Lucian Graymark again.

“My mother hates humidity,” Alec points out. 

“Well, she does love the beaches. We had a wonderful time. Thank you for considering me for the Brazilian Downworlder Deputies Program.” 

Alec shakes his head. “You have a unique perspective. And you two deserved some time in the sun.” 

Luke knows Alec takes care of his family. He can’t even see the Alec Lightwood he first met when he became part of the New York Pack and Alec started working in the New York Institute and going on hunts. 

\------------

Magnus has come to like the weeks he spends in Alicante from time to time. He helps out the current High Warlock of Alicante, one of the iron-fisted elders of the Spiral Labyrinth. He works on potions and spells that need time to brew, and he generally enjoys not seeing people for a week. It’s somewhat like a vacation. 

Alicante is interesting too. Magnus doesn’t always feel comfortable walking through the cobbled streets but being with Alec is good. Alec gets to show him around one of the cities where he grew up, the one where he got to walk around and mingle with the population. And they have some amazing restaurants.

A cauldron is slowly bubbling behind him and Magnus’ protective goggles are pushed back on his head. He has his reading glasses on as he peers over a piece of parchment written in a tight, faded Brahmi script of Sanskrit. 

He feels the tug against the wards as Alec turns the key into the lock and opens the door. It’s Monday evening, so that must mean it’s around 7pm. Alec comes home relatively early on Mondays, before the workload of the week pushes back his homecoming.

“I’ll be out in a minute!” Magnus exclaims so Alec won’t come bother him too much. He loves having him in the apothecary but a year hasn’t been enough for Alec to learn that he shouldn’t be touching everything he sees. And Magnus will be damned if the potion fails after it’s been brewing for two months and a week.

He takes off glasses and goggles and adds some spells around the cauldron to monitor it before walking out of the apothecary and into the living room. 

Alec’s bag is resting against the pillar and Alec himself is standing by the drink cart, making them drinks. 

“Tired?” Magnus asks, walking over to him and gently caressing his shoulder. 

“Exhausted,” Alec replies. He stops mixing the drinks and leans over to kiss him. It lingers too long to be a peck, but it’s a simple ‘hello’ kiss after a long day. “I… I love the job. But I am kinda looking forward to going back home,” Alec admits. “How was your day, Mr High Warlock of Brooklyn?” 

“Busy,” Magnus shrugs. “Potions and spells and fun alchemical equations,” he hums. 

Alec turns around with the drinks in hand and gives his to Magnus. Magnus smiles back. He’s happy. And married. It’s their one year anniversary today, and they have planned to take the next weekend off to celebrate. 

“To us,” Magnus whispers. “And to many more years like these.” 

Alec grins. “To us.”

They clink their glasses together and take a sip. It’s perfect, as always. Alec’s recipe-liking mind has taken to the perfect balance of a cocktail perfectly. They get to the couch and sit together, and start talking about their days. Domestic married life is bliss, and Magnus never thought he’d be able to taste it.

\------------

Thankfully, Taki’s is looking more and more like Taki’s and less and less like the Jade Wolf. Maia misses the Jade Wolf but she likes this. This is hers. She’s proud of it. She’s proud that she’s going to be able to quit the Hunter’s Moon eventually. 

Simon’s sitting across from her taste-testing some of her varieties of blood. She’s gone extensive on it, because she wants to get this right. And she’s made him taste all of them, not only because she feels bad for talking with Clary and liking her, but also because she truly trusts his opinion.

“Is it too rich?”

“No, no,” Simon shakes his head. “It's really good.” He grins, looking at the glass. “Be careful, you’re gonna have a lot of following.”

“We have 17 varieties of reds on the menu. I just wanted something that would get vampires excited about coming to a former werewolf haunt,” Maia hums. She knows he knows, but she’s spent so long on that part of the menu, using her mixology skills to make what seems like perfect blends using the surveys she had all of the Hunter’s Moon’s vampire customers fill out on what different types tasted like. She wants to get it right.

“Definitely,” Simon nods and puts down the shot glass. “So you actually... You own the place now?” 

“Yeah, the paperwork just came back,” Maia sighs softly. “I had hoped it would be sooner, but it turns out, you know, being alpha of a growing wolf pack doesn't leave a lot of time for opening a restaurant.”

She’s tired. It’s like hoarding a bunch of kids, and she loves it and hates it at the same time. There’s so much happening in her life. She’s been Alpha for basically a year now, and though she’s used to the work, the rest of the world doesn’t seem to understand that. The Hunter’s Moon, the Pack, Taki’s, Simon and Clary. 

“I’m proud of this place. And of the Shadow World,” she whispers, and he looks at her with wide eyes. “People are… talking to each other. The work we have been doing with young vampires and werewolves is working. And now… Taki’s. The whole point of this place is bringing vampires, werewolves, Seelies and warlocks together, so they can put aside their differences and enjoy a good meal.”

Simon nods. “You’re doing amazing.”

Maia smiles. They are far from healed, the two of them, and she doesn’t think Simon knows it. He’s so wrapped up in Izzy and Jace and the Institute that he doesn’t realize the crevice between them. Maia can pretend for a long time, but she knows that when she tells him about Clary, the facade will break.

“Ooh! By the way, I finally came up with a title. Unseen World: The Divine Implements by Ezekiel J. Russo,” Simon grins.

“Nice pen name,” Maia replies with a small nod. She’s nice. Too nice. 

“I wish I could use my name, though. Clary would be really excited to see that the graphic novel we started working on so long ago was finally finished.”

The sadness in his voice makes her feel bad. Maia thinks about getting a copy for her and giving it to her, and seeing her reactions. She thinks about telling them to Simon afterwards, recounting every little change in her expressions or the tone of her voice. 

“I bet she would also be excited about this,” she says, pointing at the menu in front of them. Fairchild Burrata Salad. Clary loves Italian food. Even if that double date was a disaster, Maia has very fond memories of it, and of the side of Clary she had discovered that day. “Are you going to the exhibit tonight?” 

“No,” Simon shakes his head. “She told me to move forward, in the letter she left behind. I’m respecting her wishes.” 

That’s good. If she didn’t know Jace is going, Maia would have gone. She wants to be there for Clary, to support her, even without her memories. But she understands that Jace comes first. That’s the right thing to do. 

Simon says goodbye and grabs his food and Maia takes out her phone. She opens a message to Clary and types quickly. She hits send before she can hesitate and puts her phone down. Done. 

_ Can’t be there tonight. Big shift. Break a leg. MR _

  
  


\-----------

“What about the Shax demons in Chelsea?” 

Isabelle forces her mind to listen to Underhill’s reply and not just listen to the clicking noise of her heels on the glass floor she’s walking onto. It’s something she does when she’s tired. Her mind tunes out and focuses on her heels. It’s not exactly the best thing, but it happens.

“Banished without incident,” Underhill replies. “Ashes to ashes, dust to dust.”

She goes through her checklist in her mind for the 15th time today. It’s right after lunch break for most of the Institute and she’s so hungry she could probably eat a Ravener demon. 

“And the Drevaks in Long Island?”

Underhill sighs and she knows his answer before he says it. “The hunt continues.”

“Don't stop until they're gone,” she orders. She knows that under Underhill, the Institute’s team are running perfectly and that she doesn’t even have to order him to keep going. She still does it though. “Is that clear?”

“Yes, ma'am.”

It sometimes feels a little strange to have Underhill call him Ma’am and be so deferent to her. She’s his best friend’s little sister. Even if Alec’s far away, she knows they keep regular contact. She’s happy for Alec. He needs friends. In the meantime, she finds Underhill’s professionalism a bit cold.

“Lunch has arrived,” Simon exclaims as he rushes into the ops room. Isabelle turns around and smiles at her boyfriend. “Sorry I'm late.”

Her smile is a bit forced. She’s annoyed that he’s late. He always is. He always has excuses too. She swallows it. She’s been tense lately. She feels lonely and Clary lost her memories a year ago today. With Clary and her memories, Isabelle lost her sister. Her parabatai. 

“Thank you,” she whispers and leans up to kiss him. She guesses Underhill has made his exit by now.

“Careful,” Simon teases. “If anyone sees the head of the Institute kissing one of her Downworld deputies, there could be some trouble.”

She rolls her eyes and doesn’t reply. “Thanks for the food. Jace’s waiting.” 

“Okay,” Simon nods and pecks her lips again before running off. The bag he brought her is from Taki’s, the dinner that’s replacing the Jade Wolf, just like Maia replaced Luke at the head of the pack. 

Isabelle still doesn’t know what to think of Maia. She takes the bag to her office and tries to eat. For some reason, despite the hunger, she doesn’t feel like actually eating anything. Her body is craving something, and it isn’t that burger. 

\--------------

Simon grabs the water bottle filled with blood and takes a big gulp of it. Training with Jace is always intense, and always pushes him to his limits. He’s glad he can control himself now. At the very beginning of their training sessions, he had trouble keeping the vampire instincts in check.

“I gotta say, all that work is paying off. If any other Shadowhunter was training you, you'd have beaten 'em by now,” Jace points out. He’s got a water bottle in hand. 

Simon nods. “I had to end up with the Angel-gifted coach,” he chuckles. 

Jace doesn’t really reply anything. In a few hours, it will be exactly a year. Simon knows Jace can’t stop thinking about it. Because Simon has a hard time thinking about something else. A year without Clary has felt like decades. He misses her every day, thinks about texting her regularly, and he can’t get out of his mind that she saw him at the cemetery. Or at least he thinks she saw him.

“Are you going to see her exhibit tonight?” Simon asks and Jace swallows. 

“I think so.”

Simon sighs. He doesn’t know exactly what was in Jace’s letter. If it was anything like Simon’s, Jace is pretty much walking all over Clary’s wishes. Simon knows the pain of staying away, but he bears it. 

“Look,” Jace sighs. He knows what Simon’s going to say and he’s trying to prevent it. “It's not a problem. She doesn't have the Sight anymore and I'm always glamoured.”

Simon doesn’t tell him about the cemetery thing and how she looked in his direction directly. He should. He doesn’t. It’s his moment, his tiny sliver of hope to cherish. 

“No, Jace, it is a problem,” Simon replies. He kinda wants to scream. Jace doesn’t seem to want to care. “How many times do we have to do this? Look, it takes every ounce of willpower that I have not to check up on her myself. But there's nothing we can do. Her Shadow World memories are gone. She doesn't remember this. You read the note that she left. Anything we do to try to change it, it's against the will of the Angel and it could make it worse.”

Simon doesn’t exactly know how it could be worse. They could kill her, maybe. Or kill them. 

Jace doesn’t look as… heartbroken as he usually does. The last time Simon and him had that conversation, Jace almost screamed at him to shut up. It was months ago, more than six months. Today, he just nods.

“I know,” he replies. “I just want to say goodbye, okay? This is the last time.” 

Simon hopes he’s not lying to him to make him feel better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed this!
> 
> Shoot me an ask or a DM on my tumblr @enkelimagnus, or reach me on my Twitter @enkelimagnus!  
I have anons on and curiouscat so don't be shy!


	21. ... Come To An End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The last scene we have to catch up to the end. The one that hurts the most... or is the nicest?

Jace arrives late. It’s actually on purpose. He hopes that he’ll just be able to observe her talk to people. He’s always loved looking at her explaining things, leading others. She has that passion and fire in everything that she does, and it’s beautiful. 

He settles at a pillar, leans against it, and observes her talking with someone. The woman is praising her it seems, and Clary has a small, humble smile on her face. He personally prefers her smug teasing smiles to this. 

A couple days ago, he kissed Lydia, and it was perfect, and right. He misses Clary, but it’s… different now. He’s not praying she’ll come back in the same way he did for months after she was gone. Tonight is a proper goodbye. The last time he puts himself in her life. After this, he will leave her to fall in love and live, and he will keep on hunting shadows, and kissing Lydia.

Clary smiles at the woman, and shakes her hand. Jace looks at the paintings behind her. They are abstract spots of colors that bleed away into faded tracks of off-white. The biggest piece is colorful like the ceremony room of the Institute was when Alec and Magnus got married. The other piece he can see is in tones of clear blue with hints of stone grey and pine green. They make him think of Lake Lyn in winter. 

She looks happy, he thinks. Smiling and waiting for people to talk to her. The woman walks away and though her smile fades, she looks at her paintings with a small nod. Satisfaction, he tries to guess. 

Her eyes look over the room and stop on him. It’s unusual. Being glamoured meant never being seen by her again. He had to deal with that pain a lot, early on, when he followed her through the streets of the city.

There must be someone behind him. There’s no other reason why her eyes would be staring right into his. There must be someone she knows behind him. He swallows, and checks. There isn’t. When he looks back, she’s still staring, and she’s walking to him.

It’s impossible. He’s glamoured. He checks the rune and knows instinctively that it’s still activated. She still looks at him, she walks to him. There is no happy smile on her face, but she isn’t hesitating. 

Jace takes a step back.

“Sorry,” she says, and she’s talking to him. “I didn't mean to spook you.” 

She has a bit of a chuckle in her voice. This must seem like such a strange interaction to her. Jace feels his heart beating a thousand times a minute. 

“You can see me.”

She can see him. Her Sight… Is her Sight back? Is she… No. It’s impossible, it must be a mistake. The Angels are playing tricks on him, giving her the Sight back but not the rest of her abilities, or her memories. It’s a cruel game, the consequences and punishment for the numerous times he’s come to see her since she lost her memories. 

“Yeah, of course I can see you,” she chuckles. She must think he’s insane. 

No. No, this is not… No. Jace takes a step back. And another. He wants to stay. He wants to know. But it can’t be. It can’t be right, it can’t be real. He takes another step back and almost bumps into someone carrying a tray of champagne flutes. He turns around and runs out. 

He doesn’t care how crazy he looks. He runs outside and takes a deep breath and starts walking. He walks into an alleyway at the corner of the building, that takes a left turn immediately. 

He should be running but she probably forgot him already. This… this is cruel and it hurts more than anything. Seeing her so close, having her talk to him and not recognizing him. Not remembering that this… this situation, her seeing him when she wasn’t supposed to was how they met.

He can feel tears rising to his eyes because this is… this is so painful. He wants to curl up into a ball and sob. He’s not as healed as he thought he was. He wants to run to Lydia’s and tell her and cry with her until the pain is gone.

The timing is horrible. The Angels are cruel beings. They gave her her Sight back when he was starting to move on. It’s torture.

“Hey!” She shouts behind him and he starts jogging again. He can’t. He can’t do this, he can’t deal with this right now. 

Fuck the Angels. Fuck them and cursed be the names of the Angels. Cursed be their names and their fucking torture. He doesn’t give a fuck about fate or righteous punishment. He doesn’t deserve it. Curse them. Fuck them. He wants to rip the angel blood out of his veins until he’s mundane.

“Hey, I'm talking to you!” She shouts. She’s angry. 

His feet stop walking. He closes his eyes. It’s not possible. Not right now. Not when he finally managed to mourn her enough to feel something for someone else. 

He turns around. She’s by him now, panting slightly from having to run after him in heels. She’s staring at him and he can’t tell what she’s thinking. He should just leave. He can’t. He’s bolted to the spot by a hand of iron and Fuck the Angels if it’s them forcing him to stay here, and look at her. 

“Don't I know you from somewhere?” 

Her voice is broken and desperate, she’s looking at him, searching his face for something. The despair he can read in her eyes makes him want to puke. This isn’t right. This is torture for everyone. Between this… this and the paintings… the paintings that look so much like things they lived together... how long has she had bribes of memories? How long have the Angels been toying with her? 

“No,” Jace forces himself to say. “I don't think so.” It sounds fake even to his ears.

“No, I do. I definitely do,” she keeps going. “I…” She stares at him. 

He wants to add to the lie, keep telling her that she’s imagining things but he can’t do that to her. He can’t lie more, not when he can see the pain not knowing causes her.

She blinks and stares at him. Her voice stumbles. “You're Jace, right?”

His heart stops beating. He wants to say ‘no’. 

“Yeah,” he hears himself say.

“Yeah,” she repeats, taking a deep breath with the relief that she is… seeing him. 

“Yeah, I… I'm Jace.”

She grins at him. She grins at him and he can see his Clary. The woman he loves. The woman he thought was dead. The one person that helped him out of the darkness. His light. His… his person. Clary. 

“I'm… I’m Clary,” she whispers. 

He wants to tell her he knows. He wants to tell her she’s his first love and the one who makes him feel like home. He doesn’t. To her, it’s their first meeting. 

He’s grinning too, he realizes. 

Her eyes stop focusing on his face and go down a little. She opens her mouth to ask something pointing down at his chest. He follows her eye line. The runes.

“What are these tattoos on your neck?”

She reaches up to his neck and touches them. He looks at her. She’s remembering. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed this!
> 
> Shoot me an ask or a DM on my tumblr @enkelimagnus, or reach me on my Twitter @enkelimagnus!  
I have anons on and curiouscat so don't be shy!


	22. Best Friend

Simon is shifting in his seat in a very distracting and distracted manner. He’s come into Taki’s a few minutes ago, ordered his usual red, and sat down. Maia is finishing some administrative work before she can go talk to him. He looks impatient, but he’ll wait. She has things to do, things that cannot wait.

Maia finishes the order of food and drinks from both mundane and Shadow World suppliers and closes her email. She adds a couple of words in comment to the group chat she has with the employees and Bat.

It takes a good fifteen minutes more before she’s done and finally heads over to Simon’s table. She grabs a lemonade and she sits in front of Simon, sighing softly. 

“Sorry for that,” she mutters. “I had work to do.” 

Simon nods. “Of course, of course.” 

He still looks quite impatient. Maia decides that he’s going to have to talk about the thing he wants to talk about without prompting. She’s had a long week or two, working twice as hard as usual, with the Hunter’s Moon and Taki’s and the pack. She also has been waiting for Clary to come back to the Hunter’s Moon. Maybe for Clary to be mad at her for not coming to her exhibition. 

Simon shuffles around for a moment more, taking a sip of his blood before he takes a deep breath. 

“So, I don’t know if you remember, but like… ten days ago, Clary had a showcase of her art,” Simon starts and Maia nods. 

He has no idea that Clary gave her the flyer herself. He has no idea that Maia saying that some random student dropped it off at the Hunter’s Moon was a lie. He has no idea that Clary has flirted with Maia, sent her winky emojis at the end of her texts for a couple of weeks before the showcase. Winks, and then sudden radio silence. 

“Jace went,” Simon continues. “Even if we basically all told him not to, he still went and like… said goodbye? At least it was what he said he would do.” 

Maia nods again. She doesn’t really know where this is going. Simon doesn’t look… sad the way he tends to look when he sees Clary or hears about Clary usually. She can’t really put words on how he’s acting right now.

“Well, he was really silent for a few days afterwards, and he kept going out and coming back late, he missed training sessions and all… And a couple days ago, he told us what was going on.” 

“So what? Is he dating someone?” Maia asks. Honestly, she doesn’t really care about Jace. He’s not a bad guy, and their issues are far behind them, and he wasn’t bad in bed when they fucked. That’s pretty much all she truly feels about Jace. That and the… thing with Clary. Maia knows Clary loves Jace, even without memories. 

Simon shakes her head. “No, no.”

He shifts again, leans in towards and exclaims, with a bright, happy smile, the kind Maia hasn’t seen in a long time: “Clary’s memories are coming back.” 

Maia’s mind feels empty. Simon’s words resound over and over. He’s speaking still, but she’s not listening. 

Clary’s memories are coming back. She’s going to remember who Maia is. She’s going to remember their history, and Jace, and Simon and everything that happened in the two months they knew each other. She’s going to remember she loves Jace. She’s going to remember  _ everything _ . And she’s going to be mad at Maia for not telling her.

And then, she’ll tell Simon about their chats, about the comfort and the lies Maia told her for a couple of months where she came at the Hunter’s Moon and Maia pretended not to know her. Simon’s going to be furious, and sad. 

Despite their history, and the things that are still in need of discussion between them, Maia considers Simon one of her best friends. This is going to be horrible. 

For a second, she wishes for the Angel to take back the memories he’s giving Clary again. 

“Maia?” Simon asks. “You alright?” 

Maia nods. “Yeah, yeah. I was just thinking. How much of her memories are coming back?” 

Simon shrugs. “I don’t know exactly. Jace says not everything, that she remembered his name but not what runes were. It’s been like ten days since that, so maybe more came back, maybe more details. She’ll let us know when she remembers, I think. She’ll find her way back.” 

_ She’ll find her way back _ . 

Maia hesitates to tell Simon she and Clary have talked since then. It would be the right moment, if any, to come clean. But a part of her doesn’t want to. She wants to keep those moments and glimpses and smiles to herself.

And she doesn’t want to sour Simon’s happiness, by telling him that Clary remembered the Hunter’s Moon enough to come there, when it was far from the Brooklyn Academy of Art, or from her apartment. Maia has been wondering if it was a gut feeling or a memory that pushed her to find the Hunter’s Moon.

“I’m glad she’s back,” Maia whispers. “You’ve been missing her a lot.”

“I thought… I thought she was gone forever. My best friend. My… person,” Simon replies. “But now… she’s coming back home. And everything’s gonna be okay.” 

Maia knows he’s been feeling lonely, without his family or Clary, despite her own efforts, and the presence of Izzy and Jace. He’s going to be able to share Clary’s life again, to be happier, to share his work on the graphic novel, and his work on the Institute. 

Maia also knows she shouldn’t be jealous. Simon deserves it, so does Izzy and Jace, and most of all, so does Clary. Clary’s told her of the hole in her memory, of the distress it caused her, and of the pain the loss of Jocelyn Fairchild, Luke, and Simon she endures every day.

Maia takes a deep breath. “I’m happy for you,” she says. It’s only half of a lie.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed this!
> 
> Shoot me an ask or a DM on my tumblr @enkelimagnus, or reach me on my Twitter @enkelimagnus!  
I have anons on and curiouscat so don't be shy!


	23. Angelic Power

“You’ve probably heard about it,” Jace says softly. 

He’s sitting across from Lydia in the coffee shop where they had their first coffee together, months ago. The last time he saw her, they made out for a couple hours and he spent the night, cuddling with her in her bed. 

“I have,” Lydia replies. Her smile is bittersweet on the edges. “I’m happy for you. I’m happy you have her back.” 

Jace doesn’t know how to feel. He knows he’s happy, very happy. He got what he yearned for for almost a year. But there’s a part of him, a bigger part than he expected, that is confused and sad and doesn’t want Clary to be back. Because Clary being back means giving up Lydia. Lydia that he just found.

“I’m sorry,” Jace whispers. “I’m sorry that we… that I made you move forward with me.”

Lydia shakes her head. “You couldn’t know. Whatever the Angels have planned…”

“Fuck their plans,” Jace mutters. “Fuck their plans and the way they always end up hurting people. Clary being gone was hurtful enough, but finally, I was okay, I was moving on, I had myself, and I had you, and I had us… and then… And then they make Clary’s memories come back? Right when I was saying goodbye? It’s fucking torture.” 

Lydia sighs heavily. “It’s okay. You can be happy now.” 

“I was happy. Well… no, I wasn’t happy yet, but I wasn’t in pain anymore. I was okay. I was going to be happy with you, I can feel that,” Jace rambles on. “I’m so mad. You deserve better than this. You deserve better than the Angels snatching away what we were building.”

Lydia sips her coffee, and he can feel the cogs turning in her head, and he can feel her weighing her words carefully. 

“I can be happy without love, Jace,” she replies. “I can be happy without you.”

Jace nods. “I know. And I’m glad. Even if I wish it didn’t have to be this way, somehow.” 

The coffee shop is quiet around them and Lydia looks everywhere and at everyone but him. Jace doesn’t know what he wants right now. He still wants Lydia, he wants the comfort that he saw in the glimpse into what a relationship between the two of them could be. But Clary’s back. His first love. The first person he could imagine a future with, marriage and children if he pushed a little. 

He remembers laying in bed next to her, right before Alec and Magnus’ wedding, and as she snored lightly, he could imagine the gold dress and the wedding runes, and kids with red hair and blonde hair. He could imagine his hair greying and hers too, stopping field work to do administrative, and living in the Herondale manor in Idris half of their years, the other half in New York. There, there would be Izzy growing old as the Head of Institute, and Simon by her side. 

It’s been a year since those dreams. A lot has changed, and nothing is certain anymore. Lydia’s sitting across from him, thoughtful and bittersweet. He’s not in love with her, not in a way where he can see wedding dresses and children. Not yet, at least. He knows, somehow, that he could have gotten there, if the Angels had given him a choice. 

“Go, Jace,” Lydia speaks, taking him out of his thoughts. “Go, and be with her. Be happy.” 

She means those words. 

“I’ll be happy too,” Lydia whispers. “And I’ll want an invitation to your wedding.” 

\-------------------

Jace rings the doorbell of Clary’s building, the one that’s labelled ‘Fray’. There are immediate footsteps coming down stairs and a door that opens, and then a key turns into the lock and she appears. 

Her hair is in a ponytail, with the fringe over her forehead. He’s not used to that yet. He’s not used to the way she looks at him, because her gaze doesn’t go through him anymore, and he’s not used to the recognition on her face when she sees him. 

“Hey,” she breathes. 

She reaches for his hand and he takes it. She leads him into the apartment. There’s a flight of stairs before Jace steps into the main room of the studio. It’s small and it’s messy and it’s very Clary-like. Patches of the place have been tidied up. He guesses she started tidying as her memories came back clearer than before. 

She’s wearing jeans and a tshirt, and she looks very much like she used to look. She kept her heels and her hair, and the different style of makeup she got to using during the year she was gone.

It’s weird. The Clary in front of him is a blurry mix of the one he used to know, and the one that didn’t know him. Unfocused, almost. 

She pulls him close and leans up to kiss him, a proper hello, he guesses. He kisses her back. A wave of almost desperate passion crashes into him and his arm wraps around her waist. He’s missed her so much. 

They kiss for a while, and Jace almost forgets the talk he just had with Lydia before coming over. But he doesn’t forget it. He can’t. 

They move apart slightly, and Clary takes a deep breath. “I’m so happy to see you.” She crosses her arms, and his eyes catch on something. 

Her Angelic Power rune sits proudly on her right arm, dark symbol looking almost foreign onto her. 

“It came back two days ago,” Clary whispers. “The ceremony too. I remember it now. Standing next to your grandmother, in front of everyone… You and Izzy and Alec, you were so proud.” 

“You were proud too,” Jace reminds her. “It was a complicated situation… but you were proud of being a true Shadowhunter.”

Clary sighs and looks away. “I had just killed my father. And I thought we’d killed my brother. You had just learned about your true parents… and you’d just died and come back to life.”

She doesn’t mention the Owl. He wonders if she remembers it. 

Her memories have been coming back out of order. The main events, like the people she killed, her family’s deaths, Simon’s Turning, the major moments of their relationship like their first kiss, their first time, Magnus and Alec’s wedding, have come back. The small events in between, small hunts and training sessions and dates, haven’t.

It’s confusing, for her and for him, but she’s managing. 

“Have you thought about what you were going to do?” Jace asks. 

Clary sighs deeply. “You want some coffee?” 

Jace nods. He understands that the choice now is hard to make. She could stay in the mundane world, finish her schooling, and decide not to go back to the Shadow World. He would not care. He would be with her anyway. 

She could decide to come back. Close the parenthesis of her life in Brooklyn this past year, and come home. She’d pick up training again, reintegrate the hierarchy of the Clave. Be a Shadowhunter, with him, the life he thought they would lead. 

She serves him coffee in a slightly broken mug. She’s clumsy, he guesses.

“I… I’ve been thinking about it. The memories, the feelings… I think I know where I belong right now. In the Institute, with Alec and Izzy and you. In Simon’s world,” she sighs. “But I need a bit of time. Get everything in order.”

Jace nods. “Of course.” 

She’s gonna come home. It’s gonna be okay. The year that has passed will mean nothing to neither of them. Everything is going back to normal. To what it was before. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed this!
> 
> Shoot me an ask or a DM on my tumblr @enkelimagnus, or reach me on my Twitter @enkelimagnus!  
I have anons on and curiouscat so don't be shy!


	24. Leap of Faith

It’s 4 in the morning and they are both awake. It’s a side effect of moving back to New York after Magnus spent the last month in Idris with Alec, helping him prepare for his move back to Brooklyn and to the Institute. Re-adapting to another timezone, despite the lack of plane ride, is still hard.

Alec’s fingertips trace up and down Magnus’ back and Magnus’ trace circles in Alec’s chest hair. It’s comfortable and easy and they are both tired. The night outside is bright, the way only the New York can be. Alec has missed it. Alicante is far from his home, and it’s in the middle of the Alps, away from most artificial light. Even the lights of the city are more golden. Alicante feels out of time, Italian-esque, and candlelit.

In a way, Magnus fits more with Alicante’s lights than in New York’s sharp neons. Alec guesses he’s the New Yorkian of the two, the one that fits in the skyscrapers and the square towers. Or maybe Magnus is old New York, gold like the Chrysler Building at night. 

Alec knows he’s tired when he starts comparing his husband to towers. 

“It’s going to be weird to have people not call me Inquisitor,” Alec mutters. 

“You’re going back to the Institute that saw you grow up,” Magnus whispers. “No more respectful deference for you.” 

Alec chuckles. “I’m looking forward to it.” 

Going home to his office as Head of the Institute is all he has wished for the past two or three months. He was only Inquisitor by Interim, and he didn’t forget it. The rest of the offices did seem to forget it. He’s actually, not so secretly, glad that Michael Rayhorn has taken over the Inquisitor position. Enforcing the rules is not the path he wants to walk down in the Clave. 

Ever since meeting Magnus, ever since the War and everything it changed for him and his family, Alec wants to make sure couples like him and his husband can exist in the Clave. He wants to make sure Downworlders have a place and a voice in the Shadow World, in their world. 

Creating and changing the Law and the Covenant is not the Inquisitor’s job. It’s a Council Member’s. 

“We’re home,” Magnus hums. “And so is Clary.” 

Alec nods. He’s glad Clary’s back. Despite their differences, he missed her in the Institute, by Jace’s side, making him smile. He worries a little for Jace. From what he remembers of their last conversations, he was moving on with Lydia.

“I don’t know how Jace is doing,” Alec admits. “Our bond… it’s not the same anymore. And I don’t know how this has affected him.”

The emotions he feels from Jace are much duller than they used to be. Months spent on different continents stretch parabatais apart, and Alec misses the connection he used to feel to his brother. He misses the way he knew when to comfort him. 

“It might come back now that you’re moving back in,” Magnus comforts. 

“Or maybe it won’t,” Alec replies. “And maybe that’s… a good thing? If we find a way…”

Immortality has been on his mind for a few months. He wants to have longer than what he’s supposed to have, with Magnus. He wants to be the one person that would not die and leave Magnus alone. He wants to see the world, too. It’s selfish, because he’s young, and he has all the time in the world before he is too old, but he wants more. 

They’ve talked about it, long and serious conversations well into the night and sometimes into the morning. Alec knows what he’ll have to give up. He knows he’ll see Jace die, and Izzy too, and their children. He knows he will lose his family.

Alec has always been a family man, and it scares him to be without them. But to be with Magnus for longer than one lifetime? It might just be worth it. 

“Maybe it is…” Magnus whispers, looking at his husband. “When will you tell them?” 

“I’ve been… hinting at it. They seem to have understood the hints but I need some time before I have a formal discussion with them. And with mom, especially. I’m afraid it’ll be a little hard for her…” 

Alec sighs and looks at the ceiling. There are many things that he’s afraid of, with the perspective of an immortal life. He’s afraid of being alone, he’s afraid of being rejected by Shadowhunters if he becomes a little too ‘other’ for their taste. He’s done a lot of work to change mentalities, but both Magnus and him know people don’t change their minds in a year.

You can’t undo centuries of prejudice ingrained in culture and education in a year and a little bit of being in the same rooms as the people you hate. 

“It’s going to be okay,” Magnus assures. “And… it’s not a done deal. You can always change your mind.”

Alec shifts, moves to lay on his side and look at him directly. “I’m not going to. I want to have more than a lifetime with you, Magnus. However long that might be. However long we can give me.” 

Alec has always been very direct when it came to decisions. The big world-shattering decisions were always the ones he made the fastest. He slammed doors shut and came out to his family, got engaged in so many big and sure-footed strides. The parabatai bond was the one thing he hesitated about, and even then, he remembers the feeling, in his core, that he had to do it. 

When they find a way a way to make him live longer, he will take that step without looking back. He will drink the potion or say the words and be with Magnus the way he wants to. He understand Magnus’ desire to leave him open doors, to make sure he knows he can change his mind. It’s in Magnus’ nature, in Magnus’ way of loving. 

Unwavering certainty and leaps of faith are Alec’s way. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed this!
> 
> Shoot me an ask or a DM on my tumblr @enkelimagnus, or reach me on my Twitter @enkelimagnus!  
I have anons on and curiouscat so don't be shy!


	25. The Lost Return

Clary stares back at her reflection in the mirror. She’s tried to remember how she used to do her makeup, helped by the pictures provided by Jace, but she’s changed too much and her muscle memory is the one of her new life. So she looks off, even to herself. 

Maybe it’s the fringe too. She hasn’t cut it yet. She doesn’t know if she wants to cut it. She made that choice, and she doesn’t regret it. She’ll see how viable it is when it comes to hunting, though. 

As the thoughts come back, the musings of hunts that had not graced her mind in a year, she can’t help but sigh. Maybe she doesn’t only  _ look  _ off. 

Her hair is done, in a half-up, half-down style, a loose braid keeping most of the mass of her hair back. Her dress is dark blue, with a cleavage she’s maybe reconsidering going for now that she’s back in the Shadow World. Mundane-her bought it, seduced by the plunging v neckline, the high slit, and the relative simplicity of the rest of the dress. Shadowhunter-her remembers the way Izzy’s revealing clothing was seen. 

The door bell rings. She doesn’t have time to change, or contemplate anything else. She takes her purse, a jacket, and walks down the stairs to the door. She still lives at her apartment, at least for now. She’s starting to pack already, cardboard boxes littering the already messy floor.

She opens the door. Jace is standing there. He’s wearing a coat and a simple suit, without tie, but with a white shirt. He told her to dress up, that the party would be formal. Shadowhunter culture. She still knows so little about it. 

She closes the door and slips the key in her purse. She smiles at him. He looks good. Clary can’t remember a time where he didn’t look good, except those times were he was dying or dead. 

She can’t believe it is his second life. She lost track of the number of lives she had in the past two years. 

“Are you ready for this?” She asks Jace, as they start walking towards the subway station. 

He chuckles warmly. His hand reaches for hers and she takes it. He squeezes it. 

“I should be asking you that question. This is like throwing you head first into a pool of attention,” he points out. “Luke, Simon, Izzy, Magnus, Alec… They are all there.”

Clary lets out a shaky breath. They walk down to the subway platform. She can’t help but want to take the wrong train, the one that would lead her far away from this. She missed her friends. At least Simon, and Luke. The others, she didn’t remember. She wants to see them again, to truly believe that they are not dead. 

The memories of the cemetery, of Simon’s tombstone and the Lewis’ grief are still so loud and present in her mind. Much more present than the memories of Simon alive, or as a vampire. 

“I don’t know if I’m ready. But if I don’t do it now, I feel like I will never get the courage to do it,” Clary admits. 

They walk into the subway car and Jace’s arm wraps around her waist. Her own arms hold his torso, to keep herself up right. He holds himself to the pole in the middle. She doesn’t look up, just looks at his shirt, she can see the threading from how close she is. She can almost hear his heart, if she’s careful. 

Eventually, seats free themselves and they go and sit by each other, still in silence. Clary watches her reflection in the window. Window-Clary looks afraid. Deep down, Clary knows she is. 

What if she disappoints them? What if she finds out she’s not ready to come back? It’s been a year. 

“We don’t have to go,” Jace whispers. She looks away from her reflection and to his. He’s looking at her directly, not in the window. “I can tell them there was a change of plan. I can tell them you’re not ready.”

“I… I wasn’t ready to be a Shadowhunter, to learn my father was Valentine, to decide whether Simon was going to die or be a vampire. I wasn’t ready for my mom’s death, for killing my dad, and my brother,” Clary whispers. She looks away from the window and right into Jace’s eyes. “I wasn’t ready to meet you.” 

She reaches up to touch his cheek, caress there where stubble is already growing back despite him shaving not long ago. 

“If I had waited to be ready for everything, I wouldn’t have a life to go back to, right now.”

Jace smiles at her, his eyes full of love. “Alright,” he whispers. He leans in and kisses her. Clary closes her eyes. 

Of all the people she’s kissed in the last year, none of them have been able to make her feel like this. Familiar, and comforting. One person out of all of those she talked to in the last year gave her serenity. A person that has been avoiding her texts and calls ever since Clary started remembering.

“Is Maia going to be there tonight?” Clary asks as they get up and walk out of the subway. 

Jace shakes his head. “No. We didn’t think… You were never really close.”

Clary nods. That gives her a bit of time to think dealing with this situation through. Her relationship with Maia will wait until she’s done moving back into her old life, whatever is left of it. 

They turn a corner of the street and there the Institute is, massive and gothic and like a vision from another world. There’s light coming from behind the colored glass windows, and suddenly Clary’s eyes fill with tears.

She’s come to that very square, that very grass they are walking through right now, steady on the narrow pathway, so many times. She’s come, tried to think why she would have found herself there in early November alone and in a party dress. She’s come, tried to see what she couldn’t see, as if she knew, instinctively, that the Institute, and her family, was there.

Now it is there. She’s coming home. The year, the nightmares and the feelings of wrongness will go away. The Institute is the most beautiful thing she’s seen in a while. 

Something burns her arm and she flinches, even if it has been happening more and more lately. The rune appears on the back of her right shoulder, searing a bit hotter than the other ones she’s gotten back.

Jace sends her a questioning glance. Understandably so. She’s tearing up and wincing, and maybe she still looks as afraid as she did in the subway. 

“Rune’s coming back,” Clary explains. The one on the back of her right shoulder… She slips off her jacket to check which one it is. It’s still escaping her mind sometimes. Things like names of runes or little events, things she did or said during the two or so months she was in the Shadow World.

Jace looks at her arm and smiles. “Night Vision. I drew that one for you. We were in the precinct, in the elevator, and we were trying to get the Mortal Cup’s tarot card from Luke’s things.” 

Clary nods. She remembers, not fully. She remembers reaching into the card and pulling out the Mortal Cup. And the rune, because it was Jace who had drawn it. Jace was a focal point in a lot of her memories. 

“It’s coming back… Little by little, but it’s coming back,” Clary smiles. She puts her jacket back on correctly as they approach the door of the Institute. “It’s a bit frustrating, because it’s not all at the same time.” 

Jace chuckles. “I can only imagine… Hopefully, in a couple of weeks, all of it will be back. No more holes.” He pulls her closer and kisses her forehead. She can’t help but grin. 

They stop in front of the door. She puts her hand on it, where an angelic power rune has been carved. It lights up under her touch, activated by her angel blood and again, tears rise in her eyes. 

She pushes the door open. The corridor is the same as when she left it, and this time, when she looks at the sides of the door, the guards don’t disappear. Her breath itch as she steps onto the stone floor. 

There’s noise. There’s music. Laughter and conversations, people waiting for her. Clary doesn’t know if she can do it. It’s too much suddenly. Her dress is too similar to the one she wore that night, her shoes too… it’s like a thousand memories are screaming in her head at the same time. She remembers talking to Luke here, to Jace, to Izzy, to Alec. She remembers gearing up for missions.

Jace reaches for her hand once again, and she’s glad he’s there. She’s happy to be back, but she’s so afraid. Maybe they’ll be mad at her for leaving, mad at her for not warning them. Maybe not. Maybe they’ll be happier than she even is. 

Clary knows they don’t share her doubts about her belonging with them. 

She pushes the thought and the fear away. They walk forward, and into the ceremony room. 

The last time she saw it, the banners were gold with runes of love, fate and devotion, strings of lights decorated the columns. She kissed Jace as they danced. She said goodbye. Now… 

She looks to her left and there he is. Jace’s looking at her, waiting for her. He’s there for her. And she’s going to say hello, to all those people that she loves, that she misses, that she can remember.

The banners are blue this time. The runes are different, and Clary doesn’t recognize them. Her vision is blurry with tears as she steps into the room, and around her are her people. Her family. 

Someone crashes into her, sudden and steady and she wraps around the man, knows it’s Simon. Vampire speed. That’s why he was the first to come. She’s barely walked into the Institute but he’s there, solid as ever.

“Clary,” he breathes. She hugs him back as tight as she can. He doesn’t. Vampire strength. He’s afraid to crush her. He’s always taken care of her, even when she didn’t need it. She remembers it now.

She sobs against him. He’s alive. She’s spent a year mourning him, but he’s alive. She won’t have to live with the hole in her stomach, with the knowledge that he’s gone. She’s so glad she decided to have him Turn into a vampire.

After what seems like forever, they move away from each other. The entire room full of people looks at them. Clary’s wondering how she can still be crying. Surely her body doesn’t hold that much water.

Izzy walks up to her. She’s beautiful and her smile is blinding. Simon and Izzy, and her coming back… It feels familiar. Like she’s lived this before. She has her sister back, finally. Izzy’s perfume is strong and Clary sobs harder as she smells it, burying herself into her arms. Her chest feels tight with all the memories. 

Eventually, she lets go of her. Her arms are empty for a second, but Luke is right behind, ready to take over. He smothers Clary in the biggest hug she’s ever received. He holds her like he’s afraid she’s going to fly away. Clary clings to him, she wants to promise she will never leave. Not ever again.

And then… And then she forgets the time. Maryse hugs her like her mother would have, and Clary can’t help but sob more at that thought. She’s coming back but her mom is still dead. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed this!
> 
> Shoot me an ask or a DM on my tumblr @enkelimagnus, or reach me on my Twitter @enkelimagnus!  
I have anons on and curiouscat so don't be shy!


	26. Night Fallen

Izzy’s feet hurt. Izzy’s brain feels fuzzy as she dances. The champagne cups she kept well-filled make her feel like she’s floating. Simon’s in her arms, and she’s dancing with him. 

She knows he’s not focused on her. Clary’s dancing not far away, holding onto Jace like he’ll start floating away like a balloon if she lets go of his shoulders, if she stops tethering him to the ground. In truth, both Izzy and Simon are staring more at Clary than they are looking at each other.

It’s been different lately. Izzy wants to put the change on the news Clary’s memories were coming back, but she can’t lie to herself, not that much. It comes from somewhere else, somewhere within their relationship, not outside of it.

They need to keep going, though. They can’t give up that easy, not when Clary’s finally back and the rest of the world is falling into place around them. Izzy’s finally stepping back from the Head of Institute office, now that Alec is back. She’ll be able to go back to her lab, to her weapons. She wants to experiment more with Cleophas’ old Iron Sister tools. 

She has her passion and her sister back. Her life is finally perfect again. 

The banners are blue, her dress is purple and gorgeous, her feet are… not hurting anymore. Well, maybe they are but they feel so far away. Simon’s not looking at her. Everything feels so far away. 

She knows, deep down, that it’s a craving. She hasn’t had one of  _ those _ , one of the hard ones, in almost a year. Her body suddenly shivers, skin tightening and goosebumps erupting everywhere. She hopes her sudden sweat doesn’t stain her dress. It’s beautiful and expensive and she spent so long trying to find the perfect one…

She stumbles. Simon focuses back on her and holds her. She can barely feel it. She’s staring at his mouth. His canines are not extended. She wishes they were. She wishes they would rip through her skin and give her release.

Her ponytail sticks to her skin. She’s sweating so much. She’s shaking too. She wants this to stop. She knows what she needs to make it stop. She also knows she can’t have it. 

The last time she gave in was when she saved Simon’s life in the Seelie Court. It’s been a year. The following week was hard, dreams of fangs and venom and the great pleasure of it flowing through her veins keeping her from sleeping normally. 

Izzy can’t give in. She can’t lose.

“I have to go,” she whispers. “I… forgot to do something.” 

Simon keeps her there. “You’ll do it tomorrow. Come on, you worked so hard on this party… you get to let loose.”

Izzy looks up at him, looks into his eyes. They are blurry and far away. She hates it. She can’t focus on anything. She shakes her head, pushing herself away from him and he lets her go. She shakes her head again as she stumbles out of the ceremony room and into the corridor.

Déjà-vu hits her as she braces herself against the wall.

Footsteps resound, she knows without looking that it’s Simon. He walks closer to her and she inches away. She wants his bite so badly. She needs to feel the fangs in her flesh, the venom in her veins. She’ll go crazy if she doesn’t have it. It’s so intense it makes her want to scream.

“Don’t,” she says, as loud as she can. It comes out a croaky and pained mumble. 

“Are you okay, Iz?” Simon asks, as if he can’t see that she’s not. She closes her eyes. He can be such an idiot sometimes. Always asking questions he knows the answer to. It drives her insane. That and those stupid movie references, as if all of real life is comparable to fiction made to excite masses.

“Fine. Just… stay away.”

She kicks off her shoes, and starts walking to her bedroom. She doesn’t even take the stilettos, she just leaves them behind. Simon’s nice. He’ll get them for her and bring them to her when she’s okay again. 

Right now, she needs a cold shower, and she needs to be alone. Locked in her room, far away from him and his fangs. She could hurt him. She once almost killed Raphael to get him to bite her.She’s so afraid of what she could do, if the craving keeps gnawing at her restraint. 

She turns the key in the lock twice once she is in her bedroom.

\--------------------

“Should we check if Izzy’s okay?” Clary asks as they walk past her bedroom door.

Everyone in the ceremony room saw Izzy stumble away from the party and Simon follow her. Simon came back, but Izzy didn’t. He said she wasn’t feeling well. Clary stares at the dark wood of Izzy’s bedroom door. Despite her intensity, the door doesn’t tell her if her friend is okay. 

Clary noticed the awkwardness in Simon and Izzy’s dancing. The last time she saw them, they were dancing so close they could have been fuzed together. Some Shadowhunters, older and more serious, had disapproved of their behavior. There was no risk for such a reaction today.

“She likes being alone when she’s really tired,” Jace points out. “She’s really worked hard on the party. She wanted it to be perfect.”

Clary hums and nods. Jace doesn’t know if that means she found it perfect or not. They walk away from Izzy’s bedroom and towards Jace’s. 

He feels a bit giddy, he has to admit. They’re going to sleep in the same bed for the first time since Clary’s memories started coming back. The last time they shared a bed was the night before Magnus and Alec’s wedding. They’d just come back from Edom and they were both exhausted. 

He doesn’t know if Clary will want intimacy tonight. Out of the two of them, she’s the one that’s the most demanding of sex and intimacy, strangely. Maybe she’ll want to celebrate her coming home with a bang. Maybe not. 

Jace doesn’t know what  _ he  _ wants. He shared a bed with Lydia a couple of weeks ago. They didn’t have sex but they came very close to. Clary doesn’t know about Lydia, and Jace knows he’ll have to tell her one day. Not today though. 

He unlocks the door and steps in. He doesn’t know if his room has changed since the last time Clary was here. Probably not. 

The first thing she does is take off her shoes. Jace walks over to the closet and takes out a tshirt and a pair of his boxers.

“That’s all I have. I put… your clothes, the stuff you left, they are in a box in Alicante.” 

Clary takes the clothing from him and chuckles. “Alicante? That’s not something I was expecting.”

“I couldn’t deal with everything being there all the time, but I didn’t want to throw it away so… I put them in a closet in the Herondale manor.” 

“The Herondale manor… Okay. That’s fine.” Clary nods. She looks away, awkward. 

Jace realizes she didn’t know about the manor. It makes sense, he barely knew about it until the succession department of Clave Life Affairs reached him with the paperwork for Imogen Herondale’s inheritance. He’s the last Herondale. He got everything, including a great manor on a beautiful property right outside of Alicante.

Jace slides off his jacket and undoes his shoe laces. He definitely prefers his usual boots to dress shoes. They are too tight. They undress in relative silence. 

Clary’s been quiet all evening. He watches her as he unbuttons his shirt, tries to read her. She’s happy, he hopes. She’s beautiful in the golden light of the lamps in his room. She glows, skin pale and rosy. 

She’s so different than Lydia. They look a little similar, but there are miles between them. Lydia’s so much more… calm. Even when she’s quiet, Clary’s emotions are a riot. Jace shakes the thoughts away. 

They both change into sleepwear and take turns in the bathroom. When Clary steps out, she has no makeup left and her hair is loose. The fringe is strange right now. It changes her face a little, makes her so different to him, but he still finds her beautiful. It’s just another reminder that Clary has changed.

She looks great in his tshirt and boxers. Jace realizes that the ‘gotta wear your clothing to go back home to change’ thing has never happened before. Clary’s things were a couple of doors away, and when she started going to sleep by his side, she just wore her own sleepwear. 

There is something exciting about it, something secret and intimate that makes him want to hold her closer. He smiles at her as she basically throws herself on the bed by his side. She never did that before either. She was always quite… seductive? Delicate? When it came to going to bed with him. 

It seems she isn’t anymore. 

They slide into the silvery, silky sheets. He reaches over to pull her closer by the waist and she lets him, shuffling to get to him. She doesn’t have her usual almost sudden sort of pull for intimacy though. Jace barely remembers if they had sex after Edom, and before the wedding. They were both tired to the bone, maybe, but it wouldn’t have stopped them. It wouldn’t have stopped her. 

Clary sighs as she tries to find a position. It doesn’t come naturally anymore. Jace doesn’t want to give up and not hold her as they sleep. They fumble with finding a way to fit their bodies together comfortably. 

She finally settles, her head on his chest as he lays on his back. Her hair is right below his face, and he breathes in, expecting the smell of her usual shampoo, flowery and light, but a completely different, much more artificial candy-like scent hits him instead.

She’s changed shampoos. 

He should have probably thought about it, but it still shakes him a little. The shampoo, the hair style, the makeup… He gently caresses over her back and it hits him again. Her body is softer, muscles less defined now than they used to be. She’s different. So different he can’t really stop himself from thinking about it. 

“How… How was the party?” He asks after a while, trying to stop his mind from going through all of the differences he’s finding between the Clary that walked away from the Institute a year ago and the one that is in his arms right now. 

Clary shifts in his arms, sighing a little. “I… It was good. A bit… too much.” Her words are slow, like she’s choosing them very carefully, perhaps trying not to hurt his feelings.

“We wanted it to be… comfortable.” 

Clary shifts yet again. “Don’t worry, okay? You did great.” 

Jace sighs a little, closing his eyes. “You don’t have to lie to me, you know?” He whispers. “I really want your… reintroduction to be right. I want you to feel at home again.” 

Clary stays silent for a while. For too long. Seconds pass way too slow and Jace wants to slap himself for pushing too far, so early. 

“It’s complicated… I’m so happy I’m back, I’m so happy I’m remembering, and things are making sense, and most of the people I thought were dead are actually alive, you know?” Clary whispers. 

She’s looking down, away, dark-red nail-polished fingers playing with the silvery sheets. Does she even like them? She was always more of a simple kind of girl when it came to decor. She liked creams and neutrals and simple patterns. The silvery silk is maybe too much. 

“It’s not enough though, isn’t it?” Jace asks, quietly.

Clary sighs. “It isn’t. But I just need a bit of time, Jace.” She uses his name almost like ponctuation. He knows she wants the conversation to be over, that she doesn’t want more questions. 

“You’ll have all the time you need. I’ll make sure of it.” 

Clary seems almost relieved as she exhales and relaxes against him. “Thank you.” 

Was she afraid he wasn’t going to let her have time? Jace doesn’t try to think about it. He knows this is a weird situation. It’s strange for him, so he can’t imagine what it’s like for her. He remembered her, he mourned her. She just remembered he existed two weeks ago. 

He hoped this would do it. He hoped her family, and the Institute, would be enough to make her feel normal again, feel at home. It seems like it didn’t. 

In reality, even to him, she doesn’t feel like the old Clary. She feels like a different woman, the one he loves but also… not. He knows the year happened, no matter what they tell each other, about starting up where they left off. 

Jace sighs as they fall into silence again. He reaches over to turn off the light, and when he gets back to his earlier position, he finally relaxes again. 

Having her in his bed is strange. The last woman he was with, the last woman he held wasn’t her. It was Lydia. 

“Goodnight,” she whispers. “Thank you for letting me do this at my pace.”

“Of course. Goodnight.” 

He closes his eyes. Willing himself to fall asleep then and there has never worked for him, and it doesn’t work this time either. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed this!
> 
> Shoot me an ask or a DM on my tumblr @enkelimagnus, or reach me on my Twitter @enkelimagnus!  
I have anons on and curiouscat so don't be shy!


	27. Training Montage

Clary’s back hits the ground.

It resonates through her bones, it aches and her breath is cut off. Breathing in again hurts and she struggles to get back to breathing normally. Her muscles are crampy, her body feels too heavy and exhausted. She’s covered in sweat, her hair dark with it.

It’s the most fun she’s had in days. 

Izzy stands not far from her, staring at her, waiting for her to get back up. She’s still a hard-ass sort of coach and she doesn’t hesitate to knock Clary down any occasion she has. It’s the Shadowhunters way of training. Pain’s a good teacher.

Clary has lost a lot of her skill in the last year but it’s coming back. She can feel it in her bones. And she can feel that she missed it greatly. 

Alec, Izzy, Jace and even Simon have given her a hard training schedule. They all want her back to her top capacities now that she’s possible prey to demons again. Izzy’s particularly intense about it. Clary remembers the parabatai oath they wanted to take. That might be why Izzy wants her back to her best as fast as possible.

Clary doesn’t have time to miss the life she had last year. Fortunately, her semester is over and she managed to get out of the Brooklyn Academy of Art. 

Before she walked back into the Institute, two weeks ago, she didn’t know if she wanted to stay at the BAA for the rest of the year or immediately go back to living in the Institute. Those doubts about the future disappeared when the Institute appeared in front of her in the square, as she was walking back home with Jace. 

She belongs here, next to the clashing of swords and the demon nest alerts. She belongs in the Institute, with the bad pancakes and the sometimes annoying people. She belongs with Jace, Izzy, Alec, Simon… this world that is hers by blood and by choice.

She finally gets back to her feet. She’s panting heavily and gestures at Izzy to give her a break so she can drink water.

“What would the great people of Alicante who hail you as their Savior and Martyr say if they saw you asking for a break after less than an hour?” Izzy teases, crossing her arms. 

Clary chuckles. “One of these days, you’ll tell me they made me into a statue.”

Izzy laughs. “Believe me they tried.” She says, and Clary doesn’t even want to know what happened and what had to be said for them not to do so. “It was very ugly, so we asked them to take it down.”

Clary rolls her eyes and drinks her water. She takes a deep breath and walks back to the middle of the training room. It’s only them today, and she’s glad for it. She doesn’t like the way some people stare at her in pity when they see her fall over herself.

“How did they react when they learned their Martyr wasn’t actually dead and had gotten her memories back? Do I have a fanclub?” 

Izzy bites her lip and Clary knows immediately that her joking question is very far from what happened. 

“Not exactly,” is all the dark-haired woman replies and Clary decides to let it go for now. Her memories are almost all back now, and she can understand that she was not always a good and obedient soldier. 

And by not always, she means never. 

Izzy twirls her staff in her hands and steps forward. Clary’s ready for her attack. She dodges the pretty obvious hit Izzy’s throwing, side-stepping it calmly. Some of Izzy’s steps and hits are pretty obvious. Clary knows she’s trying to lure her into a sense of false security. She fights against it vehemently.

It’s still hard. The wood hits against Clary’s unprotected arms regularly. She’ll have bruises to add to her already important collection. She doesn’t mind. She quite likes them.

Jace doesn’t like seeing her hurt, but most of the bruises are hidden under her clothing and it’s not like he’s done any move to take them off since she came back. Clary doesn’t mind per say, but it’s strange.

They sleep in the same bed, but their relationship is pretty much dead when it comes to sex. The last time they had sex was… more than a year ago. It’s unusual. It makes Clary a bit worried. And it makes her wonder.

Would she even go along with it if Jace wanted sex? Would she want it too? 

Because it’s not only Jace who doesn’t touch her. It’s her who doesn’t touch him. They don’t even talk about it, talk about wanting it. They just go to bed every night, Jace does some paperwork in bed - which drives her insane -, she sketches a little with charcoal - which annoys Jace because charcoal can get messy - and they sleep. 

It’s not what Clary expected. Her memory-less self was sexually active, sleeping with all genders indiscriminately, one-night stands only. Now that she’s back with the man she loves, the man she loved even when she didn’t know he existed, she’s not even masturbating.

She sighs a little and focuses back on training. 

“How’s you and Simon?” She can’t help but ask, after they are done with the training and they are walking down to their rooms for showers.

Izzy shrugs and looks down. “We’re good. We have a good routine going,” she mutters.

It’s very general of a comment. Clary doesn’t know if it’s a good comment or not, too. She’s never been in a relationship that lasted more than a couple of months. 

“I’m glad you guys are happy. You deserve it. You deserve each other,” Clary grins.

Izzy sends her a look that’s sweet, but almost melancholic. Clary frowns a little, but doesn’t ask. She knows better than to push, with Izzy. Izzy needs her time to talk about her feelings and the things that don’t go okay in her life. Clary accepts that. She knows her friend.

Which makes Clary think that she still hasn’t told anyone about Maia.

She doesn’t know if she will. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed this!
> 
> Shoot me an ask or a DM on my tumblr @enkelimagnus, or reach me on my Twitter @enkelimagnus!  
I have anons on and curiouscat so don't be shy!


	28. Simon & Izzy

Clary and Simon avoid the crowded streets and avenues of Manhattan. It’s a daylight patrol and it means there are a lot of mundanes walking around that they could bump into, or who could bump into them any second. It’s Christmas season too, a few days before the holiday, which means everyone’s rushing for last minute presents.

Shadowhunters don’t celebrate Christmas. Out of every member of Simon’s found family in the Shadow World, only Raphael celebrates it. It’s his second Christmas as a mundane. He’s a year into his education at the seminary, and Simon has seen him several times wearing the cassock. Simon doesn’t want to admit that he somewhat misses the stern man.

Clary’s looking around at the street and the people with unrestrained curiosity and excitement. It’s Clary’s first patrol since she came back to the Institute, a little less than a month ago. Simon’s mostly there to keep an eye on her as she gets back into it. He doesn’t doubt that she’ll be fine. She’s born for Shadowhunting. 

It’s in her blood in a way that it isn’t in Simon’s. It’s unnerving sometimes, to be in the Institute training, or out on patrol as a Downworlder Deputy, and for all of the people to expect him to be as performant as they are. He’s not an angel-blooded soldier of the Clave. He works differently than them.

They all seem to somewhat forget that, especially Izzy. Simon sighs a little. 

Clary winces as she stretches. Simon sends her a questioning look. She chuckles. “Izzy’s been kicking my ass in training. I’m just a giant ache right now.” 

Simon chuckles as well. “Izzy’s been very focused on getting you back to your pre-hiatus abilities.” 

Too focused, almost. 

“Was she like that when you became a…”

“Downworlder Deputy?” Simon fills in. “No, she wasn’t. Jace actually took care of most of my training. We didn’t want to get distracted in the middle of sessions.” 

Clary huffs, looking at him from the corner of her eye. “So I’m guessing the two of you are happy.” 

Simon swallows. That’s a bit of a complicated topic. Izzy and him have been doing alright, considering. Their relationship is a bit emptier than it used to be. He cares for her a lot, truly. After all, they have spent more than a year together. 

“We’re… okay.” 

Clary turns her head to look at him more fully now. She sends him a slightly worried look. A pang of guilt hits him in the chest. After everything she’s been through, she doesn’t deserve to see her two best friends falling apart. She didn’t even get to be happy for them. 

Simon doesn’t elaborate. Clary seems to drop the subject, as they turn onto a bigger avenue, and focus on not hitting mundanes. 

Silence settles between them, and Simon is left with his thoughts and his concerns. They have a date scheduled tonight, in a somewhat fancier than usual restaurant. If their relationship had been going as good as he pretends it is, that would have been the day he proposes. 

He didn’t even go look for a ring. 

They’ve been planning to go to that restaurant for months now. Izzy’s finally back to her original Weapons Master position, Alec has taken over the Institute, and they finally have a night off in both of their schedules at the same time.

Yet, Simon doesn’t want to go. He doesn’t want to sit across from her for hours as they pretend she’s not staring at her phone, hoping for someone to call. He doesn’t want to make small talk and have her systematically shut him out. He doesn’t want to give up trying after the second slightly deeper conversation he starts.

She doesn’t want to tell him things anymore, and he doesn’t want to try and reach her either. He’s tired, of the endless work of trying to get her to tell him why she’s not okay. He’s exhausted by it all. 

But he’s going to be a good boyfriend, put on a nice shirt and go to dinner with her, and see if maybe, the spark between them, the feeling that made them work so well, be so good for each other in the beginning is still there. 

He cares for her, so much, but it’s not enough. Not when he sees Magnus and Alec’s relationship, and compares what he sees of them to what he feels when he’s with Izzy. She’s distant, but he doesn’t really run after her that much anymore. 

\-------------------------

Izzy steps up the stairs to the small restaurant they booked a table at. Her feet are already killing her, because Simon insisted on taking the subway instead of an uber, and they walked from the subway station to the restaurant. 

She’s pretty cold too, and Simon doesn’t give off much body heat. She reaches for her stele in her jacket pocket and discreetly activates her Heat rune. The inside of her coat gets much warmer immediately. Perfect.

Simon lets go of her arm once they are at the entrance of the restaurant, waiting to be led to their table. His arm wraps around her in a familiar motion, hand hovering over the small of her back. 

She feels guilty for not putting more effort into her outfit. She pretty much gave up before opening her closet, and grabbed the closest semi-formal dress she could fine. It’s nice, of course, a square-neck, long-sleeved eggplant-colored bodycon dress that reaches right at her knee, but she’s worn it several times before and she’s sure Simon can notice.

To be honest, she just doesn’t want to be there. This restaurant sounds great and all, but Simon can barely eat a normal meal, she’s tired of working at the Armory all day to undo the mess her substitute made, and she just… doesn’t see the point. 

Simon’s great but she doesn’t trust herself around him anymore. Not after what happened at Clary’s welcome back party. She looks at him and flashes of fangs and shivers of venom running through her veins are summoned from the depth of her mind. 

It’s horrible, it’s ruining their relationship, and she wants it all to stop. 

They are seated at a table in the middle of the room. No privacy whatsoever, and people will stare at the weird red liquid Simon pours onto every food that goes into his mouth. Izzy sighs. She wants this to be over, so she can just get in bed and sleep it all away.

Simon shrugs off his jacket and Izzy takes off her coat. They settle at the table and look onto the menu. Izzy knows he’ll order either the cheapest thing or red meat, which is easier for him to swallow down with the added blood. She sees the seafood linguine and chooses that. 

They also both order a glass of wine, red for Simon and white for Izzy. 

“How was your day?” Simon starts. 

Izzy sighs a little. “It was fine. Stupid Castello made a mess of my Armory, so I’m just trying to make sense of what he left behind and fix it,” she complains. She hates that guy so much. “Also did some training with Clary.”

Their wine glasses arrive. Simon swiftly pours some blood into it. Izzy ignores it. She’s used to it. It doesn’t gross her out much anymore. 

“She mentioned you were going hard on her.” 

Izzy shrugs. “She spent a year without any sort of training. I’m only doing what I wish someone would do if it happened to me. Kick my ass into an acceptable skill level.”

Simon hums. “Right. But you know you have time right? She’s not going to disappear again. You don’t have to push her as hard as you do.” 

Izzy purses her lips. He doesn’t understand, at all. He’s not a Shadowhunter. “I’m just doing what any good parabatai would do. She can take it. Besides, she’s not complaining.”

Simon nods and says nothing else. Good. They have very different experiences of training, of existing in this world. Simon never understood the culture of the Shadowhunters. Izzy doesn’t think he ever will.

They fall into another silence. There’s been a lot of silence in their relationship lately. Izzy shifts in her seat. She hates this. She hates the silence.

Eventually their food arrives. They haven’t even tried to talk more. There’s nothing to say, really. Izzy doesn’t want to tell him everything that’s going on in her head. She doesn’t want to tell him that she isn’t happy with him anymore.

They eat in silence, drink their wine glass, and a second one. Izzy wonders if she should order a tequila shot. Get some liquid courage before she does what she feels she should be doing. 

She doesn’t order it. She just gets up and goes to the bathroom.

Her lipstick is fading away, and she reapplies it. Her reflection in the mirror looks bored and sad. She wants to go home, peel away the makeup and forget this. The dress has a stain now, from the pasta sauce. Everything feels frustrating and empty. Music’s playing in the bathroom and she wants to punch something. 

She comes back to the table. Their plates have been taken away and Simon’s playing with a stray piece of cutlery that was left behind. She swallows. Her throat feels dry. She sits down and looks at him. 

“Simon…”

“It’s not working,” Simon says. “That’s what you were going to say.” 

Izzy opens her mouth and closes it again. 

Simon sighs softly. There’s a little smile tugging at the corner of his lips. He’s a bit sad. But he’s not heartbroken.

“We both know it’s not,” Simon adds. “I think it’s time we stop pretending that we’re… functioning.” 

Izzy swallows heavily. She knows this is the right thing to do but she still feels sad. She doesn’t want to say goodbye to all of the good moments they spent together. 

“I care about you,” she whispers.

“So do I. But we know that’s not enough.”

“Yes,” she breathes. “It’s not enough. And we… we’re better off as friends, I think.”

“I agree,” Simon nods. He grabs the check and stands up. “I’ll get this.”

She watches as he walks over to the cash register and pays. Her heart is heavy, but the weight on her shoulder is lifted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed this!
> 
> Shoot me an ask or a DM on my tumblr @enkelimagnus, or reach me on my Twitter @enkelimagnus!  
I have anons on and curiouscat so don't be shy!


	29. Aftermath

Izzy stands over a table in the Armory. Ever since she had to reforge Glorious, she has decided to have a workstation dedicated to forging, where the tools that Sister Cleophas gave her have found a home. 

She brushes her hands over the smooth leather case that the tools are in. Her nailpolish is frayed, for the first time in almost a year. She finds a strange comfort in the cracks and messiness of it. It means she has her job back.

She enjoyed being Head of Institute, of course. She was able to test her leadership skills and take charge, but… this is where she belongs. At her workstation in the Armory, surrounded by weapons, and jewelry alike.

It has been a week since the date, and the break-up. She’s missed Simon, of course she has. She spent a year seeing him every time she went home, every night and every morning, and seeing him around the Institute as they both worked. 

It’s been a week and her shoulder still feel a little lighter. It’s easier to be away from him. It gives her time to think, and take care of herself. She can focus on her recovery. She looks up, checking the old clock nailed to the wall above the entrance of the Armory. She’ll have to go to the AA meeting in two hours.

She looks down from the clock and sees Jace coming towards her. He’s gotten a haircut. He’s been looking… different since Clary came back. Not incredibly happier. Not as much as Izzy expected him to be. 

He walks into the Armory, smiling at her. “Hey, Iz,” he says, and she smiles back at him. 

“Hey! Do you need anything?” She asks. 

Jace leans his hands over the table, observing the various weapons that she has in front of her. She’s been fixing some older blades lately. Though the seraph blade-making technique hasn’t evolved much in the last few centuries, other techniques used by smiths that don’t forge pure adamas have. Izzy has been delighted by her findings and she’s now waiting for some old documents from Alicante’s library.

Jace chuckles. “Can’t I just be there to talk with my sister?”

Izzy shifts, changing her weight from what foot to another. She tilts her head and smiles, amused, at him. “Of course you can. What is it you want to talk about?”

“I just want to see if you’re okay.” 

Izzy can’t help but sigh. A few people have been walking on eggshells around her, forcing themselves not to mention any vampire of any kind, or their relationships. They know Simon and her aren’t together anymore. She wonders whether it’s that obvious, or whether Simon told everyone. 

He’s not a petty person, and it was a mutual decision. She shouldn’t even be thinking about whether he went around behind her back and told everyone about their problems. 

“I asked Simon how your date went. He gave me a brief description,” Jace adds. She can tell he’s concerned, and she’s glad he is. She’s glad he cares.

“I’m good,” she replies, and she means it. “It was… We both felt like it was time for this to end. We’ve been trying to make it work for too long.” 

Jace nods. He looks a little tired now that he’s closer. She can see the lines of worry and tiredness in his face. Clary and him have been sharing a bed every night since she came back. 

“I’m sorry it didn’t work out,” Jace says softly, reaching to soothingly caress her arm.

Izzy has a little shrug. “Simon and I… We care about each other. And we function well together but… not as a couple. I think we dove too fast into a relationship.”

Jace chuckles. “I mean, when you look at Clary and I, or Magnus and Alec… It’s not like we gave the two of you any good examples.” 

Izzy chuckles as well and tidies her desk a little, keeping her hands busy while they chat. 

“What’s it like, having Clary back?” 

Jace seems to tense a little, immediately, and she picks up on it. That’s curious. Jace has always found Clary’s presence so comfortable and relaxing. And now, a mention of her name, and he tenses.

“Different,” Jace sighs. “It’s hard to adapt. We both changed a lot in the last year, and it comes into sharper contrast every day.” 

“Does she know about Lydia?”

Jace shakes his head. “No. I haven’t told her yet.” 

Izzy purses her lips. He should tell her. She deserves to know, whatever happened between Jace and Lydia. Everyone in the Institute, and even Alec and Magnus who lived in Alicante for a while knows about it.

“I  _ know _ ,” Jace replies, shaking his head. “I know I should tell her. I should have told her from the very beginning.” 

“What are you afraid of?” Izzy asks, leaning back and crossing her arms. She can see that he’s nervous about something.

Jace shifts, uneasy, under her line of questioning. She can see the gears in his head turning as he tries to figure out why he hasn’t told Clary yet, or how to phrase it.

“What I had with Lydia… It was great,” Jace whispers. “I’m afraid that I moved on from Clary too far. That if I tell her about it, it’s going to make the fact that I was… caring for someone else more real.”

Izzy looks down. She can see why he’s afraid now. And she can understand that this isn’t easy. Having Clary back was unexpected, and most of them are still reeling from the shock of it all. However, just like with mourning her, they moved forward much faster than Jace. They all can see she’s changed. And most of them have accepted that and moved on.

Jace is struggling. He’s struggling with the memory of Clary he fed with his love and grief for a year, with the Clary that he now has, and with what he started with Lydia. He’s stuck, just as before, in a liminal space in between his feelings. If he’s not careful, he’s going to hurt everyone involved.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed this!
> 
> Shoot me an ask or a DM on my tumblr @enkelimagnus, or reach me on my Twitter @enkelimagnus!  
I have anons on and curiouscat so don't be shy!


	30. Corridor In Between

Clary peaks into the ceremony room as she walks past the massive doors. It’s Monday, January 1st 2018. It’s the first day of the Gregorian month, and as such, it’s the day of the day of the Downworld Cabinet.

The last time it happened, Clary was already back, but she was going through physical exams, and training with Izzy. Today, she’s a little more free. Izzy is busy with work in the Armory, with a specific order from Idris. She’s the only person alive to have shaped and worked heavenly fire into a weapon. It makes her expertise demanded. 

Clary is glad, actually, that she has a day off, a day without Izzy’s constant questions about when she’ll be ready to be her parabatai. Clary’s trying to find herself now that she’s back. She wants to be Izzy’s parabatai, or at least she thinks she wants to. But she still doesn’t know herself.

She knows that her body is a little different, she knows that her mind is a little different. She has a new favorite meal, she has a new favorite cocktail, and she’s had sex with women, something she had never even thought of doing before losing her memories. She can’t sleep the nights where she’s in bed with Jace, when he used to be her greatest comfort. She doesn’t feel comfortable with her kindjals anymore.

So many elements that don’t feel right. 

Around the table, in the ceremony room, are the five leaders of New York’s Shadow World. Alec sits with his back to the door and Clary can only see the back of him, and the way his hands move as he speaks. At the left of him sits Magnus, watching his husband with quiet seriousness. Clary has seen Alec and Magnus in official settings before. They somehow manage to not look entirely in love.

At Alec’s right is the Seelies’ envoy. Clary remembers when it was Meliorn, but Meliorn is now the Seelie King, and the Seelie King doesn’t come to every single New York Downworld cabinet. The Seelie that sits in his place is a tall, beautiful woman, with dark hair, dark eyes, and a cream dress. There are bracelets around her ankles and her wrists, black lines painted all over her face. Her name is Hebe. 

Across from Alec are the last two leaders. Lily Chen, a dark-haired, Asian vampire woman that always dressed in pristine suits complete with dress shoes and cold eyes, and Maia. She doesn’t need to describe Maia in her head to recognize her in a heartbeat.

Clary finds herself staring as Maia pounds her fist on the table as she speaks passionately. She’s beautiful and alive and Clary finds herself blushing when Maia’s eyes catch hers. They widen slightly and she stumbles in her words. 

Hebe raises an eyebrow and looks over at the door. She catches sight of Clary and Clary can see her smirk from there. She takes a step back. This is a bad idea. 

She walks away from the door, forces herself to. She hasn’t told anyone about Maia yet. She hasn’t told Jace, most of all. It’s probably the last person she’ll tell. She walks out of the Institute, to go and sit on the steps outside of the doors. It’s just at the limit of the glamour that keeps the Institute hidden as a desecrated church. 

She decides to sit down and wait. She’ll wait until the Cabinet is over. And then, she’ll go and see Maia.

She needs to talk to her. She doesn’t know why exactly, but she feels like she has to. She has to clear the air in between them, tell her that the flirting didn’t mean anything. That’s the only thing she can do. 

Two hours go by before she checks her watch and sees 1am. That’s the usual time of the end of the Downworld Cabinet. 

She stands up and walks back inside, right as the great doors of the ceremony hall open and the Leaders and their guards and the people that accompany them walk out. Hebe has two Seelie knights by her side, Lily is alone, but goes to find Simon immediately. Magnus and Alec are chatting, and Clary sees Bat waiting for Maia.

“Maia!” She calls, just as Maia makes a bee line out of the ceremony hall and towards Bat.

Maia stops, turns, looks at Clary like she doesn’t know if she wants to talk to her. Clary swallows. 

“Hey, Clary,” Maia says softly. Clary stops by her side.

Maia looks around, looking to see whether people are looking at them or not. They aren’t. 

“I haven’t seen you since…” Clary starts.

“Since you gave me the flyer.” 

It’s been around two months. Clary remembers it like it was yesterday, Maia’s smile, her awkwardness, and the comfort and familiarity of seeing her. Maia hadn’t told her they knew each other. Clary… doesn’t know how to feel about that.

“We need to talk about this,” Clary says, a bit too loud, a bit too sudden. “About what happened.” 

Maia raises an eyebrow. “What happened?” 

Clary sighs heavily. “We  _ flirted _ ,” she replies. “And I… Now…”

Now she’s back with Jace, and it doesn’t feel… right. She doesn’t know why, and she hates it, because she sleeps next to him, and loves him, more than she’s ever loved anyone. They have a life together, more than she has a life with Maia.

It wasn’t like Maia and her were ever together. So why does Clary feel so… alone without her around? Without knowing that she can just go and see her and her worries will melt away, precious moments without thinking about Jace, Izzy, or anything else. 

Maia takes a step closer to her. “I… I don’t want to cause trouble between you and Jace.”

Clary leans forward and grabs her arm, keeping her close, for a moment. “You’re not going to. Please, I need to talk about it,” she whispers.

Maia softens, almost imperceptibly. Clary notices, of course. Maia’s eyes are a little more tired than before, and she puts her hand over Clary’s. At first, it’s to push it away, but she stops applying pressure almost immediately and just stays there.

“Okay,” she replies. “You can come to Taki’s, tomorrow?”

Clary grins, despite herself. “I’ll be there.” 

As they walk away from each other, Clary smiles at Simon and Lily, standing in a nearby corridor and talking quietly. Simon's face is unreadable.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed this!
> 
> Shoot me an ask or a DM on my tumblr @enkelimagnus, or reach me on my Twitter @enkelimagnus!  
I have anons on and curiouscat so don't be shy!


	31. I Don't Know Who I Want

Maia tries to remember the last time Clary has been to the Jade Wolf, before it became Taki’s. She comes up empty on a real memory, or at least one that comes after Valentine’s death. Clary had been more and more involved with the Institute’s business the more time she spent around Jace and the Lightwoods. She didn’t come to see Luke as often after a while.

Maia swallows. She used to resent Clary, to an extent. Clary ran around New York, constantly involved in having to save the world because of mistakes she’d made, she said loudly that she was the champion of the Downworld, when she barely seemed to care about Simon or Luke, after a while.

Maia knows there was more to the issue than just not caring, but she still doesn’t believe truly in Clary’s supposed ideals. That’s something she’ll have to talk to her about, if their conversation somehow doesn’t go in the ‘we need to forget all of this ever happened’ direction. 

Maia hangs her jacket on a coat hook in the break room and walks back to the front of the restaurant. The walls are dark blue, turquoise and calming. She tried to erase all of the pain and anguish she felt seeing her family being murdered in these walls. She feels like she succeeded.

For now, Taki’s is closed. She prefers having the conversation in private. She thinks Clary will be happy too.

She sits down on a chair, and takes out her phone. There’s a text from Clary’s Shadow World number, that tells her she’s on her way. Maia exhales. She’s nervous, much more than she usually is around people her age, even people she flirts with.

She plays with a laminated menu, the new logo of the restaurant dark red on a cream background. It reads ‘Taki’s Diner’ under five pictograms representing the people of the Shadow World. A wolf, a coffin, the rune that symbolises Shadowhunters, a leaf and a grimoire. It’s a slightly different version of the five banners of the Downworld Cabinet. Maia likes her version better. It’s more casual.

The bell jingles as the door of the diner is opened. Heels resound on the floor as Clary walks through the door.

Her hair is loose, and she’s wearing her usual shadowhunter attire, tight jeans, heeled boots, and a simple top under a thick jacket, for winter. She looks good, Maia thinks. She rarely doesn’t. 

Clary beams at her when she spots her and walks over to the table, sitting down across from her with her smile still on. Maia wonders if Clary’s as nervous as she is, but if she is, she doesn’t show it.

“Thank you again, for agreeing to do this,” Clary says softly, crossing her legs and leaning back against the back of the chair. 

Maia plays with the rings on her fingers. Maybe this is a bad idea. Maybe Clary’s going to yell at her for even flirting back, for not telling her the truth about their relationship. Maybe she’s going to be mad for daring to flirt with her when she knew about Jace. 

“I… You were right to want to talk about this. We’re going to be called to work together one of these days, and I don’t want it to be weird.” 

Clary nods. She bites her lips then, probably trying to find words. It’s cute, Maia thinks before chastising herself. 

“So. The entire time we were texting, chatting at the Hunter’s Moon… You knew who I was. And you knew what had happened to me.” 

Maia sighs a little. Here it comes. “I did,” Maia replies. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”

Clary shakes her head, dismissing it. “You didn’t know what the Angel’s conditions for my punishment actually were. I don’t blame you.”

Maia exhales. Okay. That’s nice to know, but it also brings out many more questions about why Clary wants to talk about this so badly. 

“What is there to talk about?” Maia asks. “You’re back with Jace and you’re happy, and I’m sorry that I flirted back. I’m sorry that I let you believe that something could happen between us. I shouldn’t have. It was a mistake.”

Clary swallows heavily. “A mistake… right.” 

She shifts uneasily, and takes out her phone for a second. Maia takes a deep breath. They stay silent for a while.

Clary’s face crunches a little, moves as she seems to be working through something. Maia realizes the phone she’s holding is not her Shadow World one. It’s the one she had when she was a mundane. She swallows heavily. Fuck. What has she said or done?

“It doesn’t feel like a mistake, to me,” Clary says quietly. 

“But, Jace-”

“Yeah. I know. Jace. The love of my goddamn life,” Clary cuts, and her voice louder. It’s angrier. It’s frustrated. She’s frustrated. She’s mad at someone, maybe herself. She shifts again on her seat, agitated. 

Maia can’t help herself, she reaches for her hand and takes it. Clary stills. 

They breathe in, and out. Maia can’t look at her, but she feels Clary’s eyes on her, they burn into her skin. 

“I don’t know what to do,” Clary whispers. “I don’t know… who I am. And what… no, who I want.” 

_ Who I want.  _ Maia blinks, looking down at their hands for a moment.  _ Who I want _ .

“I’m… still an option?” Maia asks, confused, but glad. Relieved, really. She wasn’t expecting the relief. She likes Clary, but she didn’t know being told she was still a romantic option would feel that good. 

Clary sighs slightly. “Yes. I can’t shake it off. No offense, but I thought… the attraction would disappear.” 

“Were you hoping it would?” Maia asks, curious. 

She doesn’t know why she’s so curious about something that could hurt, a lot.

“I… don’t think so?” Clary replies, the hesitation clear in her voice. “I don’t know, really. It’s been an incredibly confusing time. I’m not who I used to be, and I feel like… most of the people of the Institute expect me to be.” 

Maia nods slowly. “I can imagine that… it must be hard.”

“It is,” Clary sighs, and squeezes her hand. “Thank you for not… expecting me to do that.”

Maia can’t help but smile. “Of course,” she replies, and the warmth and tenderness in her voice are not forced. She feels… calm, now.

“What about you?” Clary asks. “What.. do you feel? What do you want?” 

“I would like to know what… this is,” Maia replies, immediately, barely thinking about the words that leave her mouth. It’s true though. She wants to know what the thing between Clary and her is, and if it can go anywhere. “I won’t do anything if you’re not up for it though… and I won’t do it behind Jace’s back.”

Clary chuckles. “Me neither. I’ll… I’ll tell him. I need to. And depending on what happens between him and me, we can give this… us a shot.” 

Maia nods. “That’s a plan.” 

Clary squeezes her hand again and Maia smiles still. “But… don’t wait for me,” Clary says. “If Jace and I manage to fix this… If I don’t seem to be making steps to be with you, I don’t want you to wait around.”

“I won’t. I wasn’t planning to,” Maia replies, honestly. 

Clary grins. “Perfect.” 

_ If Jace and I manage to fix this.  _ There’s something wrong between them, it seems. Maia doesn’t ask what. She doesn’t want to pry. It’s not her place to do so.

Before she gets to ask another question, the door of the restaurant opens again. Clary’s hand is warm in hers and Simon now stands in the door. 

Maia’s smile falls. She opens her mouth and looks at him. Clary sees her sudden change of mood and turns around to look at who came in. 

“Simon…” She breathes. 

Simon’s eyes are hard, his jaw is set. The last time Maia saw him like that was after Clary broke his heart. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed this!
> 
> Shoot me an ask or a DM on my tumblr @enkelimagnus, or reach me on my Twitter @enkelimagnus!  
I have anons on and curiouscat so don't be shy!


	32. Furious

Maia’s eyes are wide, almost scared, and she knows what she’s done. Simon can’t help the pain that radiates from his heart outwards, looking at the two women. Maia pulls her hand away from Clary’s like she’s been burnt. Clary looks a little guilty, but far from Maia’s reaction to him. 

Taki’s is empty of people, and Simon knows it’s by design. They wanted privacy, for whatever was happening before he walked in. Clary sighs, looks down at where their hands were joined before Simon interrupted them.

Is she… cheating on Jace? Simon hates the little voice that tells him that after all, she was in love with Jace while dating him, and she could be continuing her pattern with Maia. Simon’s heart now feels like an icicle. 

He heard Maia and Clary yesterday, after the Downworld Council. He heard what they said, what had happened before Clary regained her memories. She visited Maia, it seemed. And Maia didn’t tell Simon. She pretended to be sympathetic to his grief. She betrayed him.

“Having a good conversation?” Simon asks, bitter and cold.

Maia sighs heavily. “I can explain,” she starts. It’s so fucking cliché. 

Simon raises an eyebrow. “I can put two and two together. Clary and you were… flirting when she didn’t have her memories. You didn’t do anything to stop it, even if you knew about Jace. You didn’t think that telling us Clary was regaining some sort of knowledge of the Shadow World was a good idea. You wanted to keep it all to yourself.” His tone is venomous. 

Maia stands up, and he can tell she’s standing up also to the challenge of his anger. She looks much less scared and much more… righteous? He doesn't know how to feel about that. This is supposed to be his time to be angry, this is supposed to be a conversation where he’s in the right and she has to apologize. And it looks like she’s taking it completely differently.

“I didn’t tell you, because I didn’t want to give you false hope. She could have stumbled into the Hunter’s Moon by total chance. We still don’t know if she didn’t do that,” Maia replied. “And you’re not entitled to know everything about my personal life. You never was, especially not now!”

Simon can’t help but feel like she’s twisting his words. After all, Maia has betrayed him. She hid Clary’s memories, she pushed Simon away from his best friend and their relationship. Even as they talked about Clary, she hoarded away this little piece of hope, this little thing that would have slightly filled the gaping hole in his chest. 

“How long had you and her been talking?” Simon demands.

Maia sighs. “A couple of months? She first came to the Hunter’s Moon for her birthday.” She whispers.

“Months?” Simon snaps. “And I… I thought you’d tell me. I thought you and I were close enough that you would tell me!” 

“It was none of your business!” Maia shrugs. “And yeah, we’re friends, but we both… Everything that happened between us didn’t actually make me want to share the details of how I was flirting with your best friend, who is also your ex-girlfriend.”

Simon swallows. Her eyes are dark and annoyed. “This is not about us! This about Clary and I!”

Maia huffs, looking at him. Clary’s silent by her side, staring at Simon with confused, and annoyed eyes. 

“This is entirely about  _ us _ , Simon,” Maia snaps back. “It’s about you wanting to control me. You wanting me to constantly be there, at your beck and call, constantly answering to you. It’s always been about that. You can’t deal with people not including you in their lives!” 

Simon bites back a growl. She has to make it about their relationship. Of course she does. 

“It’s not my fault you run away and hide whenever things get a little tricky in your life,” Simon huffs. He’s mad. He’s so mad and everything’s bubbling out. The loneliness and the pain of not having Maia around, the way she’d seemed to disappear whenever anything got hard. He was mad at her. He’d been for a while. “Wasn’t it also what you did when Clary gained her memories? Disappeared and pretended none of this was your business?” 

Maia looks at him with so much pain in her eyes that Simon feels guilty for a short second. 

“This is not fair,” Maia whispers. “I… I was in pain!”

Clary stands up in turn. “Simon, this is none of your business,” she snaps. “This is between Maia and I.” 

Simon opens his mouth and closes it again. Clary’s taking her side, not his. Her eyes are glaring at him openly, and he can’t help the searing pain of betrayal that overcomes him. Are they already together, behind Jace’s back? 

Simon doesn’t know what to think or what to do. He expected Clary to be mad too, to be mad that Maia kept them away from each other for months before Clary got her memories truly back. 

And she isn’t. And Simon… Simon’s lost.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed this!
> 
> Shoot me an ask or a DM on my tumblr @enkelimagnus, or reach me on my Twitter @enkelimagnus!  
I have anons on and curiouscat so don't be shy!


	33. What Does That Mean?

Clary’s standing at the door to Jace’s room, and something in her eyes tells Jace that she’s here to talk about things that are serious, not anything else. He knows her enough to recognize the stern solemnity when he sees it.

She ends up walking further inside, closing the door behind her. They sit on the bed. She breathes in deeply, looks so serious. She takes his hands in hers and smiles a little.

“I have to tell you something about… about my life during the year we weren’t together,” she says quietly. She looks… ashamed?

Jace feels his heart stop for a second. That’s… Unexpected. He remembers seeing her date men, and he remembers the unhealthy satisfaction he got from seeing her fail in relationships. He still feels a bit guilty about that. But… he’s okay with it.

“I know you’ve dated people,” Jace points out. Her smile is still nervous as she flashes it briefly at him. He doesn’t understand why. He’s not going to be mad at her for this, ever. But he somewhat gets that she’s ashamed or guilty. Angel knows he’s feeling the same way about what happened with Lydia.

“Yeah…” Clary takes a deep, heavy breath. She looks at everyone but at him it seems. Their hands, the ceiling, the bed cover, the floor… She’s breathing fast, under her powdery pink tank top. “People.”

Jace swallows. “I’ve watched you. I shouldn’t have, but I just… sometimes I would just sit a few rows behind you in a Starbucks and watch you.”

She pales a little. “So you know?” 

Jace nods, shrugging. “Of course I do. And for all it is… I’ve dated too. One person, but… I think mine got a bit deeper than the things you did with those guys.” 

Clary opens her mouth and closes it again. “Ah. The guys.”

Jace smiles at her widely. “I don’t blame you. We weren’t together anymore.” 

“It wasn’t only guys, Jace,” Clary blurts out and he blinks. What? 

Suddenly he remembers. He remembers the dark-haired girl, with the short square haircut and the lip piercing. He remembers the way her arm rested on Clary’s shoulders. Oh fuck. 

“What… what does that mean?” he asks softly.

“I don’t know,” Clary admits, biting her lip, visibly uncomfortable. “I have no idea. It was mostly sex, you know, and some quick little flings that lasted like a week. But… they were pretty great and then… and then there was Maia.”

Jace blinks again. His mind swims in all that information. Clary’s into women. Clary’s been with women. And… Maia? 

“What?” 

Clary sighs heavily, crossing her legs. “Around my birthday… I found the Hunter’s Moon. And then Maia and I started talking, and flirting, and if she’d come to the exhibition… I was planning to kiss her, and ask her out.” 

“Oh.” 

Jace remembers the flyer that Simon gave him, coming from Maia. That was because Clary had invited her, not him. Because Clary was really into her. 

“And what about now?” Jace asks. That’s a big question. Is she still into Maia? The way he’s missing Lydia? 

Because he truly misses her. He misses how… safe and different he felt around Lydia. How he could just be normal for a while, not someone that had fought in a big war. He isn't really Jace Herondale when it comes to Lydia. With Clary… With Clary, everything comes back. All of that pain and the war. 

Clary swallows. “I still like her. A lot,” she admits. Tears are now welling up in her beautiful green eyes and he wishes he could take them away. “I don’t know… I have no idea what’s happening. Because I love you. And I like her.” 

Jace nods. It’s his time to explain what he’s been doing. 

“I understand,” he whispers. “Because I moved on. I was with… with Lydia.”

She frowns. “Lydia… Branwell?” 

“Herself,” he replies, and he can’t help but smile a little as he thinks of her and her steady gaze. “I… We made out and I slept with her, and spent the night at hers several times. And then a couple days later, you came back to me. And I’ve been feeling so… guilty. Because I  _ miss _ her.”

Clary looks at him, her mouth half open, and he can see her searching for words. The guilt eats up at him. He feels a bit better now that he knows he wasn’t the only one of them to move on. And he’s reeling from the Maia reveal.

“Maia and I… It was just flirting, but I… I tried so hard to forget it, forget how it felt, but I can’t,” Clary whispers, and he can feel the hurt coming off of her. “Because I love you.”

“I love you too,” Jace assures. “But maybe… Maybe it’s not the same anymore? I mean, we’re different people now.” 

Clary sighs. “I don’t want to lose you…”

Jace nods. “You know… We should maybe take some time and think about it?” 

Clary looks surprised, and he understands that. He wouldn’t have been the one to say they should take time, a year ago. He would have clung to her like a vice, begged for her not to take a step back. 

“Yeah,” she breathes. “That’s a good idea.”

Jace chuckles softly and sighs. This is going to be complicated. And he needs to talk to Lydia. He’s been missing her enough,and he wants to tell her about this, about how Clary and him are taking a break and wondering whether they’re in love really anymore.

Clary leans in and kisses his cheek softly. Jace smiles. He looks down. Okay. This is going alright, right? He feels a bit… tired but he feels… lighter now that he’s told Clary about Lydia. 

“By the way,” she asks. “What did Alec think of you and Lydia?” 

Jace chuckles. “Actually? He was pretty okay about it.”

Clary grins. “I’m glad. Simon found out about me and Maia and it didn’t go… amazing.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed this!
> 
> Shoot me an ask or a DM on my tumblr @enkelimagnus, or reach me on my Twitter @enkelimagnus!  
I have anons on and curiouscat so don't be shy!


	34. Overrated

Lydia sits at the table she sat at the first time they had coffee here. Jace can see the tense line of her shoulders, under the swish of her ponytail. He’s asked her to get coffee and she seems very… afraid of what he’s going to say. Or maybe not afraid, apprehensive. 

He pushes the door of the coffee shop and gets an americano, before he joins her at the table, sliding onto the bench-like seat with a little sigh. 

She looks up at him with a heavy sigh. “Hey,” she says. She looks tired. She’s been working on Idris time lately, awake when everyone’s sleeping, and he had expected her to refuse coming to get a coffee with him. She’d immediately said yes.

“Hey,” Jace replies with a smile, and takes a sip of his coffee. It’s incredibly hot and it almost burns his tongue. 

Some days, when they are lazy and don’t want to wait with a slightly burnt tongue, they activate their iratzes. He often used to be the only one not to, but he’s learned better than to use pain as a way to ground himself. His eyes shine gold briefly as he heals.

Lydia raises an eyebrow at him. “Really? An iratze for a hot beverage?” She asks sarcastically.

Jace chuckles. “When you have the means…”

She nods, and takes a sip of her latte. It’s probably much colder than his drink, since he was late. 

“Really sorry that I made you wait,” Jace says softly. “There were some reports to check over from my subordinates.”

Lydia shakes her head. “Believe me, Jace, I get it. No need to worry. I’m just… even more curious about why you’re asking to see me. Hadn’t we agreed that taking our distances was for the best?” 

Jace swallows. What if she doesn’t want to see him? What if she’s mad at him, even if she said she isn’t? What if she prefers not being around him anymore? What if… What if she hasn’t missed him the way he has missed her?

“Clary and I are taking a break,” he announces, and Lydia looks taken aback.

“That’s… unexpected,” she mutters after a moment of silence. “I thought you were soulmates.” 

Jace sighs deeply. “Me too. It has just been different since she came back. Her and I… We tried to pretend the year hadn’t happened. Let’s just say that’s not how people, or feelings, work.” 

Lydia nods sympathetically, reaching over to brush her hand over his arm. “So… Are you okay? About it all. You were so happy to have her back…”

Jace looks at her hand for a moment, and his body betrays him, relaxing when she touches him. He’s gotten used to her, has gotten to enjoy her calming, serene, presence so much that not having her around this past couple of months has been much more difficult than he thought it would be. 

“I’m fine,” he replies. “I really am. It’s strange to think that the love I currently have for her is not enough for a real relationship. It’s strange to think that I was… waiting for so long for her to come back to me, and then now, I have her back, and there is one person I miss. And it’s you.” 

Lydia’s eyes go wide as she takes in his words. Her lips are open slightly, and she’s breathing deeply. He can tell she’s searching for a way to react to what he’s just said. And he’s praying she’s not mad at him for… stringing her along like this. 

“Listen…” She says softly. “It’s… I wasn’t expecting this.”

Jace has a bit of a chuckle. “Me neither, Lydia. Me neither.” 

Lydia smiles at him for a moment. Her eyes are fixed on him in a way that feels almost too much for him. It’s like… it’s like a spotlight being on him. He knows he should be used to that, but if he’s honest, ever since Clary’s been into their lives, the spotlight has shifted away from him, and he’s been loving it. 

He’s been loving being quieter, being one of the Team Leaders of the Institute, instead of… Head of Institute, Head of Security or… being the Best Warrior In His Generation. The Warrior with Angel Blood. He just wants to be Jace. He’ll leave Clary, Alec and Isabelle the spotlight now. He doesn’t need it anymore.

“I miss you too,” Lydia admits, almost too quietly. Her words are almost drowned by the chatter of the coffeeshop. “I’ve felt guilty about it. I didn’t want to be the bitter girl who misses the guy who got his true love back.” 

Jace huffs teasingly. “You know… True love is overrated. Between Alec, my parabatai, Clary… You… Love’s not that easy. It’s not a once-in-a-lifetime sort of thing. There are several kinds of love, and they all… are equal. I love Alec, my brother, half of my soul, but it’s not romantic, it won’t ever be. I love Clary, but we’ve shifted away from romance during that year… and you…”

Lydia holds her breath, and he only notices it because he knows her. 

“You,” Jace continues. “I don’t know what kind of love it is. I know I care about you, I know I’ve missed you since Clary came back. I know… I know it’s already romantic, and it will really be love if I let it grow a little while.”

“I don’t want to steal you from Clary,” Lydia whispers. 

“You’re not,” Jace promises. “Clary and I… I don’t think we’re meant to be together like this anymore. And she has her own Lydia.” 

Lydia chuckles, breaking the solemn momentum of the conversation. Jace prefers it a lot when it’s broken, when they can laugh and smile. 

“Her own Lydia?” 

Jace nods. “Yes. The person that came back into her life this past year, the person that pushed the pain away. The person that made life easier to live.” 

Lydia swallows. “So I’m not… I’m not breaking up your relationship.” 

Jace shakes his head, and now it's his turn to reach out for her, to reassure her. “You’re not. I think… I think it’s already broken.”   
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed this!
> 
> Shoot me an ask or a DM on my tumblr @enkelimagnus, or reach me on my Twitter @enkelimagnus!  
I have anons on and curiouscat so don't be shy!


	35. Clary & Jace

She stands in the ceremony room, the red light coming from the colored glass of the great windows making her hair catch fire. When Clary turns to look at him, he thinks she might just be an angelic envoy, come to tell him that he shouldn’t use his powers anymore.

Clary told him about her mother, the vision she’d had of her telling her that the Angel was angry at her for making the Alliance Rune that saved their siblings. Maybe this version of Clary, standing tall in her hunting gear, her hair hanging around her face in waves, with her bangs looking still foreign on her, her eyes sad in the light, is his own envoy from the Angels.

He walks towards her, and she smiles at him, tender. He loves her. He loves her so much still, but seeing her doesn’t make him feel the way Lydia makes him feel. Loving Clary is quiet now. It’s not like loving Alec or Izzy, not yet, but it’s not like loving Lydia, or like loving Clary was before she left them.

“Hey,” she goes. She’s quiet but her voice resounds in the room. It’s so empty. The last time it was full was when she came back to them.

“Hey,” he replies, equally quiet. 

He knows what they have to do now. But that doesn’t mean he knows how to do it.

He’s never been in love before Clary. He’s never been in a relationship where his dickish attitude didn’t cause the girl he was banging to leave him behind with a slap or an eyeroll. This? Breaking up? This is new to him. 

Even after Clary arrived in his life, being manipulated into believing they were siblings didn’t feel like breaking up should feel like. It had felt unfinished, like the end of their story had been ripped away from them in a cruel twist of fate and genetics, and now…

Now they’re standing in the ceremony room, and he doesn’t know what to do, or say. 

She’s the one that starts speaking. “I’ve been thinking. And I know you have too.” 

Jace nods quietly. 

Clary sighs heavily, opens her mouth and starts to say what feels like something she’s been preparing. “In the last two years, I’ve been four different people. I... I think I’m a little lost in between all of them.” 

She’s been a high school student getting into the Brooklyn Academy of Art, she’s been a rookie Shadowhunter thrown into the melee, she’s been a memory-less, broken and confused art student, and now she’s… Now she’s a Shadowhunter again, but not the one she used to be, and certainly not the one that Jace fell for. And that’s okay.

“The memories came back,” Clary continues. “But the feelings... the feelings... I don’t think memories are feelings,” she says, and her voice sounds tortured, pained. “They are full of them, maybe, but they are tainted with... past. They are nostalgic and melancholic and over. And I don’t think I’m able to break the protective glass of past I put around them.”

Jace gets it. He does. His own memories of before she left them are tainted and distorted, like a pink tint that makes it seem much more idyllic than it ever was. 

“I love you,” Clary whispers. She turns away and something glints on her cheeks. Tears. He hates that he can’t love her enough right now, and that they have to do this. This wasn’t supposed to happen to them. 

Jace walks closer to her, reaches up to wipe away her tears. 

“And I loved you,” she continues, accentuating over the past tense. “Then and now, those are different types of love. And I think... I can’t give you the love I used to give you. I’m another woman. And Raziel gave me my memories back, but he didn’t erase a year of life spent being someone else, and loving people that weren’t you.” 

It hurts. Jace can’t help but admit that it hurts more than he thought it would. Hearing those words from her, from the one girl he thought was the One for him. The first girl he ever imagined living with, marrying… The one girl that made him feel like he was okay, like he could be… okay. Like he could aspire to normalcy.

Jace sighs, realizes that he needs to talk. “It’s not you. Not only you,” he continues. “I fell for someone that wasn’t you. I moved forward, without you. Now you’re back and it’s like the ground has blown up under me and I have no idea what to do.”

He’s not sure why his voice sounds so pained. She looks at him with wide eyes. He doesn’t want to hurt her, he doesn’t want to sound as if he betrayed her. The guilt of that comes rushing in like a wave, overwhelming him with stinging guilt and shame. 

“I didn’t lie when I said I’ll love you until I die,” Jace whispers. He stares at her. He needs her to believe him. To believe that he wasn’t lying about loving her more than anything.

Clary reaches for him. “I know you didn’t.” Her voice is too trusting. 

Jace inhales deeply. He needs to calm down. His self-destructive urges are coming back, creeping in because he betrayed her. He’s better now, mentally, but this… is a hard blow. This is a hard thing to deal with, even with the healing he’s done.

“I made you a promise.” 

Clary nods. “I  _ know _ . It’s okay. Love is complicated.”

Jace is crying. He doesn’t know why. “I’m so sorry. I was supposed to love you. And I love Lydia too now.” 

Clary pulls him close, reaches for his face. “Look at me,” she demands, and he obeys seamlessly. She’s staring right into his eyes. She’s looking at him with love, and trust, and he can only breathe in, shakily. “I can share your heart, Jace.” 

Jace exhales. He’s okay. This is okay. It breaks the spell of the shame and guilt and pulls it right down into reality. 

“I don’t blame you. I can’t blame you. We’re people. We change, and we fall out of romantic love. And it’s okay. We’re not going to fall apart. We’re going to say Clary and Jace, the best team the Shadow World has ever seen,” Clary chuckles. 

He nods. “Yes. Herondale and Fairchild.” 

Clary smiles at him. “Herondale and Fairchild. We’re just going to stop kissing. And stop sleeping in the same bed. Because I don’t know you, but it’s been weird.” 

Jace feels relief bleed into his limbs. He feels a little light-headed. “It has.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed this!
> 
> Shoot me an ask or a DM on my tumblr @enkelimagnus, or reach me on my Twitter @enkelimagnus!  
I have anons on and curiouscat so don't be shy!


	36. Expectations

“So, should I expect me and Magnus to break up incessantly?” Alec asks.

He looks up from the tablet he’s typing on. Jace doesn’t know what he’s doing exactly, and he doesn’t really care to know. He’s always known that leadership, at least leadership like the Head of Institute, isn’t for him.

The pressure of everyone looking up at him for orders, for a direction, and everyone looking down at him to see if he’s respecting the Law perfectly, following the directives from the Inquisitor and the Consul? That would break him. He’s already spent so long on the shaky puzzle of himself, held together with glue and a wish, that he doesn’t want to push his luck.

Alec has always flowered in the stress of leadership. Jace is proud of him, definitely. 

“I would rather has some time to prepare myself for it,” Alec continues. His smile is teasing, but Jace knows he’s expecting him to talk about the break-up, about Clary and Lydia and everything that has happened.

“It depends. Are you falling for someone else?” Jace asks, steps forward into the office and closes the door behind him. It’s so nice to have Alec back in the Institute, even if he knows, deep down, it’s probably not going to be for long.

Alec huffs, shaking his head. “As if I could ever,” he mutters, and leans back in his chair, his eyes a bit more tired as they fall on Jace and the light falls on the shadows of his face. 

“Then I don’t think you have to worry,” Jace replies, shrugging, and sits down on the couch. “I missed seeing you in this room,” he adds, before Alec gets to ask about Clary. He needs a bit of time to manage to explain what happened, and what’s the situation now. Because he doesn’t know yet.

“I’ve missed being in the Institute,” Alec shrugs. “Alicante has a lot of… things to offer, but this is home. It has always been.” 

Jace chuckles. “A lot of things. I know the political animal in you adored the meetings with the Council and all of the diplomatic bullshit you did.” 

Alec bites his lip for a second before nodding. “You’re right,” he admits. “That part was definitely thrilling.”

He falls silent then, and Jace braces himself. Yes, Clary and him have broken up. Yes, he’s okay. No, he’s not that heartbroken, because Clary and him weren’t doing good anyway, it wasn’t right. And… he doesn’t know yet what he’s going to do. The only thing he can really think of is Lydia.

“You know…” Alec starts. “I always liked Lydia,” he explains. “She did things that I don’t agree with, thought things I didn’t agree with but… Deep down, we were very similar. Dutiful.” 

Jace nods. “You’re not like that anymore.”

Alec shakes his head. “No, I am. I just… My duty isn’t only to the Clave or to the family anymore. It’s also to me.” 

Jace opens his mouth. That makes sense. Alec takes care of himself now, something he didn’t really use to do. It was always about Jace, or Izzy, or Max, or the Lightwoods and the Clave… 

“I haven’t seen Lydia in a long time,” he continues. “But… I think she might be good for you, if you choose her.” 

Jace sighs. “I don’t know what I’m going to choose, or who.” 

Alec plays with the ring on his finger, the one Magnus gave him, the one he’s been wearing since the Battle of Alicante. Jace smiles softly. He can feel the happy thrum whenever Alec looks at that ring. He can feel all of it and he  _ wants _ it.

He wants it, he wants the happiness, and marriage and… his mind gives him the image of Lydia’s steady, wide smile, her beautiful eyes and her blonde hair in a simple bun, much simpler than the one she had for Alec.

“Clary and I…” he starts again. “I think we were perfect for each other, for the time of war. And maybe if the Angel hadn’t taken her memories away, maybe then we would have been together for the rest of our lives, but I  _ can’t _ undo what has happened, I  _ can’t  _ turn back time and make it so she doesn’t create the Alliance Rune, or so she doesn’t kill Jonathan. I can’t live my life in the ‘what if’s.” 

And Lydia isn’t a what if. She’s real, she’s good, and she makes Jace forget about the world when he’s with her, and he misses her. He realizes that it hasn’t been that long since they started talking again, but maybe that’s just how he falls for people. Fast, and hard. 

“I was worried about you at first,” Alec admits, looking at him. “I remember how you were when Clary left us, how… broken. I remember your struggle, feeling your pain through the bond and I thought… now that she’s back… Breaking up must have broken you too.” 

Jace chuckles softly. “And yet…”

Alec nods. “And yet, you seem okay. You seem… like a weight has been lifted. And so does Clary. It’s like you’re happier now.”

“I don’t know about happier. There’s a lot of things that I imagined living with Clary that I’m giving up, a lot of dreams but… At the end of the day, those dreams now have Lydia in them. So I think I’m only making the right choice.”

Alec grins at him, relaxed and happy. “Yes. It sounds right.” 

Jace leans back against the couch and sighs heavily. “Now I just… have to deal with it.” He whispers. 

“Most importantly, you just have to go to her. Lydia. Just tell her, tell her how you feel. It’s the only right way, believe me.” Alec adds, voice soft as he gently pushes for Jace to get out of the office and go see Lydia. 

Jace stands up. “I’ll see. She knows Clary and I broke up anyway, but.. She knows I need a moment.” 

Alec rolls his eyes. “Stop being a dick,” he teases. 

Jace walks out of the office with a grin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed this!
> 
> Shoot me an ask or a DM on my tumblr @enkelimagnus, or reach me on my Twitter @enkelimagnus!  
I have anons on and curiouscat so don't be shy!


	37. Friends Over a Milkshake

Lydia doesn’t know why Clary wants to see her. She can’t really stop feeling nervous about this. Jace broke up with Clary recently, and though he said it was going great, what’s the chance that it actually didn’t go well?

What’s the chance of Clary being there to yell at her for stealing away the man she loved? Lydia swallows, and pushes the door of Taki’s open. 

The last time she walked into this place, it was still called the Jade Wolf, and there was a dead Forsaken on the floor, after it had come for Luke. It’s so different now. It’s painted blue and green, rather than yellow and red, and the inside of the place feels cool, and gentle, like a comfortable shady area in the sun. 

Lydia sighs as her eyes adjust to the light inside of the restaurant. There are a few people there, no vampires since it’s the middle of the day. She feels a little strange being into his renowned Downworlder place. The Jade Wolf used to be a werewolf-only haunt. Now it’s open to all, under Maia Robert’s leadership. 

Clary’s sitting at a table, and her eyes are already fixed on Lydia as she walks in. She’s pretty with her fringe and her hair loose around her face. 

Lydia walks to her and sits down across from her, smiling softly. “Hi,” she says, and tries not to sound as nervous as she is. 

Clary’s eyebrow quirks up, and it’s pretty obvious that she’s amused at Lydia’s nervousness. She doesn’t seem mad at her, or annoyed in any way, so that’s good. That’s for the best. Lydia relaxes a little at that.

“Hi!” Clary replies. “Thanks for meeting me. I can only imagine how weird it must be.” 

Lydia nods. It is weird. Meeting her possible future boyfriend’s ex-girlfriend. She wonders why Clary wants to talk to her, if not to yell at her. To give her a “How To Care for Your Jace” manual? She would understand, somewhat. Jace is a bit… twitchier than the average person. The little Lydia knows of his past makes it make incredible sense.

“I just…” Clary starts. “I just wanted to see how you are. This isn’t a shovel talk, this isn’t a… how dare you talk.” 

Lydia relaxes a little more. A waitress, short and teenage-looking, comes with some menus. Lydia gets a coffee, Clary gets a milkshake. She’s young, Lydia remembers, barely older than the girl that takes their order with a serious frown on her face. Clary’s 19. Lydia suddenly feels old. She’s eight years older than her. She’s lived a great deal more, and somehow also a great deal less.

“What kind of talk is this, then?” Lydia asks softly.

“It’s a thank you for waiting for him talk,” Clary replies. She’s a bit tired, it seems, like she’s been thinking about this a lot. Lydia can understand. She can also admit that she’s been thinking about this a lot too. “It’s a thank you for… liking him. Caring for him, when I can’t. Not the way I should, anyway.” 

Lydia chuckles. “You’re caring for him the way you can. And from what I know, he isn’t exactly mad at you.” 

Clary nods, quietly. “It’s strange to think… that we’re not together anymore. Before I lost my memories… him and I seemed like the kind of couple that would last forever.” 

“At first I felt terrible for taking him from you,” Lydia admits, since it seems like this is an open, true conversation. “But I’m happy I’m not. And I’m happy… he can be happy.”

Clary’s about to reply when the young waitress brings back the coffee and the milkshake. Lydia smiles at Clary’s wide, gourmand eyes. It’s adorable.

“I wanna be your friend,” Lydia blurts out. “I don’t want us to be rivals, or whatever people expect us to be because… you’re his ex, and I might be his future.” 

“Might?” Clary chuckles. “I’m pretty sure he’s falling in love with you, Lydia.” 

Lydia doesn’t know what to reply to that. She’s not expecting love from Jace, not yet. It feels very fast but… at the same time, haven’t they been seeing each other, yearning for each other for around six months? And… she thinks about him all the time. She misses him, all the time, even when she’s working. That’s… that’s more than a crush, right? 

“We can be friends,” Clary continues. “I want us to be, too, because… I trust him. I trust that he wants to be with someone good. He’s healing and he’s much better at choosing the right people to surround himself with now.” 

Lydia nods. “He’s doing much better than he used to.” 

Clary’s smile turns a little sad. “I’m.. I’m sorry I couldn’t only love him when he wasn’t alright.” 

Lydia shakes her head. “This is not… This is not a failure from your part. Love can’t fix mental illness like magic.” She reaches over and takes Clary’s hand. Clary’s eyes go a little wide, and Lydia smiles. “Don’t… think about it that way,” Lydia whispers. “Think about it as… You helped him realize that he needed to get help. And that’s love, too.” 

Clary’s eyes are a little wet, as she sucks in a mouthful of her milkshake through a straw. “You’re right,” she whispers. “Thank you.” 

The milkshake does look amazing. Lydia takes back her hand and takes a sip of her coffee. It’s good. 

“Do you want some of the milkshake?” Clary asks, quietly.

It looks perfectly sweet and creamy and Lydia hesitates for a moment before she nods. They ask the waitress for a second straw. It’s a little strange, to share a milkshake with the ex of your future boyfriend, but the drink is so delicious that Lydia forgets about the awkwardness. 

“By the way,” Clary says as she leans back against the chair. “You’re invited to Jace’s birthday party. January 18th, in the Institute. He’s still debating whether to invite you or not, because he doesn’t want people to think he’s moving on too quickly, or for some of our Downworlder friends to get mad but… I want you there. And I’m certain he does too.” 

  
  



	38. Jace & Lydia

Jace rings the doorbell, at the entrance of Lydia’s building. It’s a mundane building, a mundane apartment and, in Manhattan, no one really cares to look for strange things happening next door. Her weapons are glamoured anyway. If she is called on a hunt in the middle of the night, they probably just think she’s going clubbing.

Right now, it’s the middle of the day and he looks enough like a mundane for no one to care what he’s doing ringing at her door. He swallows. 

He’s here to ask her out, properly this time. He’s here to say that he wants to be with her fully, if she’ll have him. He’s here to see what the future holds for him. And he’s nervous. Much more nervous than he’s ever been, or that he can remember.

The door buzzes and he walks into the small building and towards the elevator. He’s been there a couple of times already, but today feels different. He looks at himself in the mirror. He’s dressed as he’s usually dressed. The only really different thing is the flowers he’s holding.

He’s never really been a romantic-gesture type of guy. He didn’t have the opportunity to be. Now that he might be able to, he’s overthinking every flower in the goddamn bouquet. What if she’s allergic? He hasn’t even thought to ask that.

As the elevator takes him to the second floor, he thinks of running back to the Institute and doing this another day, with a less allergy-causing gift. He doesn’t get to. The second the doors open, she is there.

She was maybe going out, just as he came in to declare that he wanted to be with her. Jace sighs. He should have texted ahead. He’s doing everything wrong. 

Lydia’s eyes go wide as she spots the flowers in his hand. White flowers, because they fit her interior well, and because there’s something about them that make him think of her. She smiles widely. 

“Hey, Jace,” she chuckles. “Are those for the next door neighbor?” 

“They’re for you,” he replies, a bit awkward, way too nervous to even think about anything else but her smile, right now. 

“I guessed,” Lydia admits.

Jace smiles at her. Fuck, he doesn’t even know what to say. Since when is he like this around women? 

“Come on,” she says, and he follows her back to her apartment.

“Here.” Jace hands her the flowers and she thanks him, before starting to open the bouquet and put them into a vase. 

He breathes out shakily. 

“So,” Lydia says after a while. “Are you only there to give me flowers? Not that I mind, but…” 

Jace shakes his head and takes a step forward, taking her attention away from the counter and towards him. She smiles up at him, her eyes shining brightly. They look so blue at this angle. His heart feels like it’s beating out of rhythm.

“I want to be with you,” he blurts out.

It’s so not sexy or charming the way he says it, like a child caught in the middle of something he shouldn’t be doing. Except he should be doing this. He should be telling her everything about how he wants to be with her. 

“I’ve missed you since Clary came back,” he admits. “I’ve missed you, I've dreamt about you. I’ve thought about you, every day. And if you’ll have me now, I want to be with you.” That’s more like it.

Lydia beams at him. “Of course I’ll have you. I’ve waited, that’s proof enough, right?” She chuckles. He can’t help the embarrassed sigh that comes out of his mouth.

She leans up and kisses him, surprising him. The kiss is soft, firm, everything that he needs from her right now. His arms wrap around her waist and pull her closer and he wants to disappear in her embrace. 

The nerves are still there but now he’s just buzzing with excitement, and with something he doesn’t dare to call happiness. Everything’s okay, for once. He can breathe more easily, but he doesn’t, because instead he’s kissing her, and she’s still all of his oxygen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed this!
> 
> Shoot me an ask or a DM on my tumblr @enkelimagnus, or reach me on my Twitter @enkelimagnus!  
I have anons on and curiouscat so don't be shy!


	39. This Time, Happiest

Lydia pushes the door of the Institute. Behind it, guards are waiting, and they send her a glance when she steps in, but relax at the sight of runes. They’re probably expecting guests, but haven’t been told exactly how many would come. Lydia herself doesn’t know how many they’ll be. 

She’s about to ask direction when heels clink against the floor of the war room, and Isabelle comes into view. She looks even more beautiful than the last time Lydia has seen her, and very happy. It’s a bit surprising, considering she’s just broken up with her year-long boyfriend… Lydia smiles at her as the woman hugs her lightly.

As always, Izzy’s glamorous in a black dress, bodycon and reaching mid-thigh with a very high neckline and puffy mesh sleeves. Lydia feels a little underdressed in her moss-green wrap dress, even with the glittery silver heeled sandals on her feet.

“It’s so nice to see you,” Izzy says, and Lydia somewhat wonders if it’s true. They’ve never really had a good relationship. Maybe Izzy’s just happy that Jace is okay. Either way, Lydia isn’t the type to push back on compliments like those.

“It is,” she replies. “Thank you for inviting me to this,” she smiles. 

Izzy nods. “Of course. You’re important to Jace now, so you’re important to the family.” 

Lydia swallows. They start walking through the corridor, the war room and towards the more administrative wing. Lydia frowns. 

“We’ve taken over a meeting room for this,” Izzy explains, catching Lydia’s confusion. “It’s not big enough an occasion to get the ceremony room, even if Alec’s the Head.”

“That’s understandable,” Lydia mutters. They fall silent for a while. 

They’ve never had any reason to be friends, in between Lydia prosecuting Izzy and the messy couple of weeks that followed, with the failed wedding and the demon attack. It has been over a year now, but Lydia feels it hanging in the air between them, and she can’t help but be relieved when they almost run into Jace.

His face lights up when he sees her and it makes her heart beat a little faster. She can’t remember the last time someone has looked at her like this, like her presence fills them with happiness. Izzy discreetly takes a step back as Jace walks closer and gently pulls Lydia to him.

“Hey,” he says softly, looking down at her with that rugged smile of his.

“Hey,” she replies. “Happy Birthday.” 

She barely has time to take in the elegant suit jacket he’s wearing that he’s kissing her. She leans into the kiss, her smile widening and tension melting from her body. His hand slips into her hair, holding the back of her head, and they would probably have made out for much longer had Izzy not coughed.

“Gross, you two,” she mumbles, but the amusement in her tone is clear. She’s joking. Lydia’s arm wraps around Jace’s waist, and his own around her shoulders, and they keep walking towards the meeting room.

The door of it is open, music playing there already. She looks up at Jace. He looks a little nervous. 

It’s the first time they’re together in front of his family, she realizes, and the stress hits her back, knotting her shoulders, crushing her chest a little. She leans against him a little. He leans back. 

The meeting table has been covered with a beautiful cream cloth, plates and glasses are set for seventeen, and there are already people there. 

Lydia can see red hair and bright orange high-waisted pants, and it’s quite obviously Clary who whips around when she hears noise and grins widely at the three of them. 

The hug she gives Jace is tight and a little awkward, and Jace’s smile is hesitant. They still love each other so much. It's obvious in the way they look at each other and the awkwardness in not being a couple anymore. Their habit would be to kiss right now. And they’re a little… awkward about that.

Clary turns to her, her smile still wide. The hug Lydia gets is much more relaxed. It’s ironic, really.

They’re given champagne flutes and shoved deeper into the room, and Lydia gets to re-meet the entirety of Jace’s family. Jace’s arm stays firmly around her as they walk around.

Maryse Lightwood is the most surprising one. The last time Lydia saw her was before the demon attack, when Maryse was working openly to undermine her in the eyes of Imogen. She was a tight-lipped, angry-looking woman, and now…

Maryse’s hair is loose, her eyes are shining, and she’s laughing brightly at a joke Magnus Bane has just made. How times change…

“Mom,” Jace says softly as they reach the two couples, Maryse and Lucian Graymark, and Alec and Magnus. Lydia can barely handle all of the things she’s seeing, even after Jace’s warnings and explanation.

Maryse turns to them. “Happy birthday!” She grins, pulling Jace into a tight hug. Suddenly, her eyes are a little wet. Lydia looks away, pretending she hasn’t seen the woman’s emotion. 

Jace lets go of his mother and Maryse looks at Lydia now. She’s less bubbling with love and happiness now, and Lydia decides to be the first to speak.

“Thank you for having me,” she says softly. “It’s a pleasure to be here… to celebrate Jace.” 

Jace clears his throat, a bit embarrassed. Maryse smiles at her. “I’m sorry for everything. I have just realized I hadn’t apologized to you yet.” 

Lydia shakes her head. “It’s alright, Mrs Lightwood.”

Maryse laughs. “Please, call me Maryse. I haven’t been called Mrs Lightwood in a long time.” 

Seeing her without runes, but looking so warm… It’s quite beautiful, Lydia realizes. She moves on to the three others, and is reminded of all of the things she’s done and said to all of these people. Tonight is not the night to do all of her atoning, tonight is about Jace, but she’ll do it within the month. 

Alec’s the one she kept in contact with the most, of course, considering that they both worked in Alicante around the same time, both close to Consul Penhallow. The woman’s not here tonight, but her daughter is. 

Lydia sees her, her arm looped around a blonde-haired and pointy-eared Shadowhunter. Helen Blackthorn, Lydia’s mind supplies, nights spent memorizing files giving her the name of one of the only half-Seelie Shadowhunters in the Clave’s history. 

They’re mostly done with their lap and talking to people when a woman arrives at the door. Her dark, kinky hair is braided beautifully on one side of her scalp, the other half free and bouncy. She’s wearing a pale pink crushed velvet skirt with a structural black blazer, complete with buckled cotton tape and punk-looking fuschia-accented print patterns on one side. It’s eclectic and elegant, and catches Lydia’s eye immediately.

And she’s not the only one. On the other side of the room, Clary seems to have noticed her as well, and she’s looking incredibly nervous. Jace tenses by Lydia’s side and Lydia looks up at him. 

“Maia Roberts,” he whispers. “Alpha of the New York Pack and… the one Clary’s…” he seems to search for words. “Clary’s Lydia.” 

Lydia chuckles at the phrasing but looks at the two of them, the red-haired Shadowhunter and the Black werewolf. Clary walks to her and they seem to talk quietly, awkward but fond. They’re cute, Lydia notes. 

“Are you okay?” She asks, seeing Jace looking at the two women with a strange, faraway look in his eyes.

“Yeah,” he says. He takes a sip of his champagne. “I think… It’s a bit funny. Clary’s my ex and… Maia and I slept together.”

Lydia giggles in surprise. “Well… You have good taste, it seems,” she teases. 

Jace sends her a look so tender she feels like she’s going to explode. 

There are a few other people that Lydia doesn’t get to before Izzy holds a champagne flute up and calls for attention, a tall blond man, Robert Lightwood, a woman by his side and a teenager.

The room goes silent, couples leaning a little against each other as Jace’s sister reminds them all of why they’re here, in this strange, mundane celebration. 

Lydia looks up at the man by her side. He’s looking at Izzy, eyes shining brightly. She remembers the last birthday he told her about, she remembers Clary’s 19th, and how he came to her in tears, in pain. There’s no trace of that man in the one that stands here today. His smile could eclipse the sun. 

Lydia can’t help but smile as well, and she doesn’t need anyone else to remind her why she’s here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed this!  
Shoot me an ask or a DM on my tumblr @enkelimagnus, or reach me on my Twitter @enkelimagnus!  
I have anons on and curiouscat so don't be shy!
> 
> If you're interesting in a Shadowhunters server not focused on Malec, come and check out Everything But The Institute Sink! (18+)
> 
> https://discord.gg/hXekdtM


	40. Family Day

The restaurant they’ve chosen for the Lightwood family dinner is small and has low lighting. It’s a bit fancier than the Hunter’s Moon or Taki’s, with tables already set when they arrive, with beautiful leather-bound menus.

It’s just the four of them, tonight, Maryse, Jace, Alec and Izzy, without partners and spouses and the pieces added to the little family. It’s quiet, the type of quiet that Jace hasn’t really thought would ever be in the presence of his family.

They’ve all grown from the people they used to be. Jace still remembers the way dinners used to be, in the Lightwood manor, with Izzy throwing her towel and leaving before they even got to dessert.

Of course, Jace and Alec would always smuggle her the sweet treats after she left. 

Now, Izzy and Maryse have a good relationship, a healing one. They talk and they smile and right now, they’re quietly chatting about Paris. Izzy’s thinking of doing a small internship with some smiths of the Paris Institute, to add to her already quite impressive list of weapons-making skills.

She’s taken to it with such an ease that Jace is almost sad she didn’t become an Iron Sister. It would have suited her. He would have missed having her around, obviously, she’s his sister… but she could have been so happy there.

Alec has a glass of scotch in hand and a relaxed smile. Jace can somewhat feel how relaxed he is. Their bond hasn’t been quite the same since Alec left, it’s distended and distorted. Jace has gotten used to it though, and it’s not as bad as he thought it would be.

Maryse is radiating love and serenity. Everything’s absolutely okay right now, and Jace almost can’t stand it.

A part of him is waiting for everything to go bad. He’s never had happy family times like this, and though they’re all adults now and time, therapy and communication has helped bridge the gaps in between them, a small part of him is waiting. 

Who will it be? Will it be Maryse who will grab a knife and try to kill him the way he saw her do in that hallucination at Max’ rune ceremony party? Will Izzy start bickering and storm off after insulting everyone? 

He knows it won’t happen, deep down. But he’s terrified it will.

Maybe it will be his fault. Maybe Izzy and Maryse will resent him for breaking up with Clary, whom they love, and Alec will chime in something about choosing Lydia instead, and the three of them will turn against him and yell at him for not loving Clary enough. 

He takes a sip of his drink and tries to calm down, as their orders arrive.

Jace starts getting nervous again, his fingers tapping against the table rhythmically. Once the orders are there and they all start eating, he decides that it’s time he talks.

“So hm. What did you think of Lydia, last Thursday?” He asks. His voice is tighter than he wants it to be. 

Maryse slowly lowers her fork from her mouth, chewing before swallowing and finally talking. It all seems to take hours, for Jace.

“I didn’t think I would like her much,” Maryse admits. “We never had a good relationship, her and I, the little we saw of each other when she became Head…” 

Izzy nods in agreement. Jace knows Izzy and Lydia didn’t exactly get along, when they were in the Institute at the same time. He knows it was a lot to ask Lydia to come to his birthday party and be around all of these people who were mostly slightly negative in their opinions of her. 

He finds she did great, personally, but he wants to know what his family thinks.

Jace smiles a little. “I was worried,” he admits in turn. “We all have a tumultuous relationship with her and…”

“All is not forgiven,” Izzy cuts in, a little harsher than Jace expected. “Yet.” 

Jace nods. “Rightfully so. Neither of us expected you guys to be up for it immediately, especially you, Izzy.”

“So it’s an ‘us’ now,” Alec points out. He’s smiling, only teasing Jace. “That’s cute.” 

Jace looks down at his steak for a second. “I think it is. We… we fit. In a way I never expected anyone but Clary to fit with me.” 

Maryse watches hom for a moment. Her eyes are unreadable, and Jace tries not to stare too much at his mother. 

“Sometimes,” she says softly. “The most expected person is the one that fits us the most.” She looks around the table. “And I think most of us here can attest to that.”

Though Izzy had only recently broken up with Simon, Maryse and Alec had both found their unexpected match. And Jace could only hope Lydia was his unexpected match, his Luke, rather than a Magnus. The person they’d known and maybe not had the best relationship with, before falling back together.

Jace exhales and goes back to his food. These people, the people that matter the most, are okay with Lydia. The other person that matters the most, Clary, has been okay with Lydia for much longer. 

And that’s all he really needs, right now.

Next to him, Izzy's phone bings. A text that he can't read, sent by 'Seelie King'. Izzy turns her phone onto its screen, looking up at Jace for a second. As if she's worried of him seeing it.  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed this!  
Shoot me an ask or a DM on my tumblr @enkelimagnus, or reach me on my Twitter @enkelimagnus!  
I have anons on and curiouscat so don't be shy!
> 
> If you're interested in an 18+ Shadowhunters server not focused on Malec, come and check out Everything But The Institute Sink! https://discord.gg/hXekdtM


	41. Clary & Maia

Clary rings at the doorbell, down at the foot of a building that looks like it’s going to crumble down any minute. 

Luke gave her Maia’s address, and she waited days staring at the words scribbled in blue ink on a neon yellow note. She waited as if the words would come to life, as if they would become the words she needs to do what she’s going to do. 

Her mouth is dry, her palms too moist, and she feels like she is going to explode. 

She’s not good at this. With Jace, it felt like a tsunami and she didn’t need to  _ say  _ anything because he always, always said it all for her. With Simon, she barely had said anything, and all she had said had made it all worse.

She’s uncomfortable with how… bad at this she is. She’s gotten used to being talented. 

Hell, she doesn’t even know if Maia’s home, but she hopes she is, because they need to talk. And Clary needs to ask her out.

It’s been two weeks since Jace and her ended things. Maybe she should wait longer. Maybe this is wrong. Maybe Maia will laugh at her and tell her that she’s not going to trust her word, not when Clary’s so swift to change from one partner to another. She wouldn’t exactly be wrong.

“Hi?” 

Maia’s voice resounds, distorted by the metallic buzzing from the intercom. 

“It’s Clary, I-”

She doesn’t get to continue. The door buzzes as it unlocks, loud and cutting and she swallows. She pulls the door open and walks in. 

Third floor. The elevator is broken, so she takes the stairs. Once upon a time, she would have been so incredibly winded. She’s barely panting now. Perks of being trained in fighting, perks of being fit, perks of being an inhuman being.

Maia’s waiting at the door. She leans against the doorway, and seems to be struggling not to smile.

“What’s up?” She asks, as if she cannot see the way Clary is flushed and flustered and looks like she’s going to die from the stress. 

“Can I kiss you?” 

Clary’s eyes go wide as she realizes exactly what she’s just done. She’s blurted out a feeling that she’s tried to keep buried for a while now and it’s… weird.

Standing there and saying that in the corridor to Maia’s apartment, with the words and her voice resounding into the empty space, and Maia’s slightly taken aback look. 

“Come in,” Maia replies, and Clary walks into the apartment. 

The door closes behind her. Maia kisses her.

It’s soft and strange and the last time Clary kissed a girl, she wasn’t exactly herself.

And it’s Maia. Maia’s lips have been more cruel than sweet towards Clary. Their relationship has been rocky and messy, every step to get to know each other shifting and moving under them.

But now… Clary reaches up and cups Maia’s face, Maia’s arms wrap around her waist and pull her close and Clary doesn’t know how to react to all of this. She feels hot and nervous, jittery like a bomb about to explode.

It’s Maia that makes her feel like this, she realizes. Well, she’s known it for a long time but it’s… different like this. It feels tangible. 

They move away from each other after a moment. This time, Clary’s panting.

She finally takes in everything, and Maia’s sweatpants and how she doesn’t have any makeup on, and god, she’s beautiful. But she also looks like she just came out of bed.

“Did I wake you?” Clary gasps. “I’m sorry!”

Maia chuckles. “Don’t be stupid. I’m not mad at you for waking me, not when it’s for something like this.” 

Clary rolls her eyes, at herself mostly. 

“So what now?” Maia asks after a moment. They are just standing there, and their hands have fallen into holding each other. 

Clary exhales. “I want to be with you. Jace and I are over. He’s with Lydia now. And I… I need you close to me.” 

Maia grins at her, a smile that’s brighter than the sun, brighter than anything she’s ever felt before. It reminds her of the soft caress of sun rays on her skin as she runs through the fields around Luke’s country house. 

She’s just as serene and brightly happy as she used to be as a kid at Three Arrows farm. Maybe even more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed this!  
Shoot me an ask or a DM on my tumblr @enkelimagnus, or reach me on my Twitter @enkelimagnus!  
I have anons on and curiouscat so don't be shy!
> 
> If you're interested in an 18+ Shadowhunters server not focused on Malec, come and check out Everything But The Institute Sink! https://discord.gg/hXekdtM


	42. Happy For You

Lydia expected that her work would bring her into the Head of Institute’s office one day or the other. She just didn’t know that her relationship with the Lightwoods family would change so drastically. 

To say that walking through the Institute to meet with Alec isn’t nerve-wracking to Lydia would be a complete and utter lie.

Shadowhunter nod at her now when she walks through the corridors. She guesses it’s a side-effect of dating Jace openly now. He’s popular amongst the Institute soldiers, it seems, especially since he has stopped being reckless and doing everything he likes no matter the consequences for him or others. 

Lydia knocks at the door of the Head of Institute’s office, dark wood that she used to be able to lock with her stele. That office has seen so many Heads in the last two years… It’s not unknown to have power struggles, but 6 different people in so little time… 

“Come in!”

Alec’s voice resounds from behind the door and Lydia pushes it open. She saw him a few times when he worked as Interim Inquisitor in Alicante, in the big office that used to be Imogen’s. 

Lydia misses Imogen way more than she expected. The woman was strict and unwavering in the way she worked, but she was the greatest mentor that Lydia ever had. She would always be thankful to her for what she’d taught her.

Alec is sitting behind his desk, looking through some files on his tablet when Lydia closes the door behind her. 

“Lydia,” Alec nods. “You have the reports on the functioning of the Institute?” 

Lydia nods back at him. “Absolutely,” she says. She sits down in front of him. “I have emailed you a copy, though I think we should go through the details together before I send it back to the Inquisitor.”

They get to work. Their conversation keeps at a strict business level for the next hour and a half. Lydia is thorough in her research and observation. She’s always been quite good at making sure Institutes run correctly. She’s much better an administrative controller than she is an actual Head, though she learned it the hard way.

It’s only when they are officially done with work that Alec relaxes a little in his chair. Lydia swallows. She guesses this is when the conversation shifts tone and he tells her exactly what he thinks of her and Jace being together. She briefly wonders if she should just cut this short and leave. 

“I…” Alec starts. He stops for a moment, searching for the right words. “I didn’t think you would ever get involved with our family again,” he admitted. “In between the promise I made to you of marriage, a promise I broke… My mother working to undermine you completely in the eyes of the Clave… The way you prosecuted Izzy, and treated Meliorn…” 

Lydia notices the way Meliorn is somewhat part of the greater circle of what Alec calls family. Interesting, she thinks, but doesn’t ask further about that. Her arrest of Meliorn did put the entire Lightwood family at risk… 

“I didn’t think I would either,” Lydia replies quietly. “When I saw Jace in Alicante that day… I could never think this would be the end result.” 

She’s dating him, yes. She’s dating him and she can see a future with him, a marriage and children, and she can’t remember the last time she’s felt this safe, this trusting in the future. She cherishes that feeling more than she’s ever cherished anything.

“I’m happy for you two,” Alec says. He’s smiling a little. He looks warm and happy too, so far from the man Lydia was going to marry a year and a half ago… It feels like a lifetime ago, but it isn’t. 

“I’m happy for you too,” Lydia nods. “You found what you needed. And… I’m so glad we didn’t go through with that wedding.”

Alec chuckles. “Thank you for letting me walk away. Without that, I would never…”

Lydia shakes her head. “Don’t thank me. You were the one brave enough to walk to him. I did nothing.” 

Alec exhales. His smile gets wider. “I’m sorry I didn’t invite you to the wedding. The actual one. It was a last minute decision, and in all honesty, our relationship wasn’t exactly what is is now.” 

“I never once f elt cheated out of an invitation”, she smiles. “I’m just… glad. Glad you found your love, and glad I found mine. I’m glad we’re… happy now.” 

Alec’s smile gets even wider. He’s playing with the wedding band at his finger and she smiles at the sight. One day, there will probably be the Herondale family ring on her finger. The way the Lightwood one is probably on Magnus Bane’s. 

“Can we be friends?” Lydia asks a bit suddenly. 

Alec looks surprised for a moment, but his answer doesn’t really wait. “Of course,” he shrugs. “We always were similar people. It was admittedly the only reason I could imagine bearing to marry you.” 

Lydia nods, understandably. “I can see that.” 

They smile at each other. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed this!  
Shoot me an ask or a DM on my tumblr @enkelimagnus, or reach me on my Twitter @enkelimagnus!  
I have anons on and curiouscat so don't be shy!
> 
> If you're interested in an 18+ Shadowhunters server not focused on Malec, come and check out Everything But The Institute Sink! https://discord.gg/hXekdtM


	43. Two Cups

It’s been a couple of weeks since Clary and Maia shared their first kiss. Clary expected to be much more nervous about life than she actually is. But she’s settled into this new rhythm, into being with Maia, into living her life as a Shadowhunter again. 

All feelings of foreignness have melted away, and all that remains is steadiness. This is her life and this is her future. The Institute and being a Shadowhunter, dating Maia and drawing still. She’s decided to make sure she wouldn’t stop drawing, that she would probably still do a couple exhibitions. She likes being an artist too much to give it up.

Maia is steady too. She allows Clary to be a little more mundane than Jace ever could. She allows Clary to be balanced. Clary doesn’t feel like she’s constantly on the edge of a precipice when she thinks about her life and her place in the world anymore. She just feels good.

And with that newfound serenity, comes a talk that she has to have with Izzy.

Becoming Izzy’s parabatai had been a bit of an evidence after the war. And then… it hadn’t been. Tethering herself to Izzy as she debated if her relationship with Jace was worth continuing, if the feelings would come back… It had seemed like an incredibly bad idea.

Izzy’s working in the Armory now, her dark hair held up in a ponytail. It’s like a slightly flawed mirror image of the day Clary first asked her to be her parabatai. 

She looks content there, tinkering with a weapon Clary can’t see the details off behind a pile of files tall enough to look like a big book. 

“Hey,” Clary says softly, and Izzy looks up. Clary’s holding two mugs of coffee.

“Hey,” she smiles.

Clary walks towards the desk and sits on the stool in front of it. She manages to find a space on the very busy table for the mug that’s directed to Izzy. She’s added a bit of sugar and some milk in there, the way Izzy likes it. 

“Are you here for a weapon?” Izzy asks. 

Clary chuckles. “No, I’m here to see you,” she says in a teasing tone. Izzy chuckles as well.

Her fingers deftly handle a dull-looking blade as she slides it back into place and starts reattaching all parts of the dagger together. Clary watches her work in silence. Izzy’s eyes are laser-focused on what she’s doing, and it’s quite a sight.

For a second, Clary wonders how Simon was able to pass Izzy up. Then she shakes the thought of. Jace is one of the most handsome men she knows and she definitely broke up with him. Love isn’t just about look and intensity when handling weaponry. 

They sip on their coffees as Izzy works, quiet and happy to be with each other. 

Up until the moment Izzy breaks the silence. 

“You haven’t touched your kindjals since you came home.”

Clary swallows. She knows she hasn’t. They’ve been in the Armory’s special weapons cabinet, where they were before she chose them, since she’s left, over a year ago. She’s been back for almost three months now, and she’s also been back on the field but… she hasn’t touched them. 

“I…” It’s hard for the words to be found. Izzy has always had her whip it seems and Clary knows her feelings might be hard for the other girl to understand. 

Once again, Izzy breaks the silence. “You’re not the same person you used to be. It makes sense if you want to change weapons.” 

“Can I do that?” Clary asks curiously, hopefully.

Izzy nods. “Of course you can.” She puts her mug down. “It’s not very common. Most of us start training with it and it becomes a part of our life for the years to come. Only if it is destroyed do we really change it. Often, people get buried with their weapons.” 

Clary sighs a little. She doesn’t want to go back to the kindjal. They had felt fitting when her life was about balancing the part of her that was Morgenstern and the part of her that was Fairchild, and the baggage of it all. Her blood family is entirely dead. There is nothing for her to balance, and besides…

She’s tired of having to choose between Morgenstern and Fairchild, she’s tired of those supposed enemy parts of herself. If she’s learned one thing, is that it’s not about blood. It never was. It’s about what people make of you, and the choices you make. 

Jonathan was as much a Fairchild as he was a Morgenstern. He was raised into a monster. And in the end, he chose to be one, too. She knows people think he chose to be a Morgenstern. But he was right when he wanted to rebuild the legacy of the Morgenstern name… He was right that Valentine wasn’t the end all of what it means to be a Morgenstern. 

“My path in the Shadow World… has never been the one commonly taken,” Clary mutters, and Izzy nods.

“Do you want to choose another one? Or do you want to wait?” 

Clary takes a deep breath. 

“I’m still the Weapons Master,” Izzy whispers. “I can help you again.”

“You’re more than the Weapons Master, Iz.” Clary’s voice cracks a little as she says that. “You’re my sister. You’re my  _ parabatai _ .” 

Izzy falls silent, her eyes wide. For a moment, Clary wonders if she hasn’t been mistaken all this time. If maybe Izzy doesn’t want her, this new her, as her parabatai. 

But Izzy’s lips stretch into a smile so bright Clary feels almost blinded. 

“Thank you.” 

Clary shakes her head. “Nothing to thank me for, parabatai.” 

\-------------

They weren’t supposed to meet up with each other. Simon has been avoiding Taki’s a little, admittedly. The last time he was there, it didn’t exactly go right. 

He’s been avoiding Maia and Clary. He knows he shouldn’t really, but… Except from the occasional small talk with Clary in between two corridors of the Institute… It’s not happening. He doesn’t know how to make it happen. 

He knows he fucked up. He knows he shouldn’t have said what he said to Clary, especially considering the way he acted towards Maia at the end of their relationship, and how fucking hypocritical he was to accuse Clary of those things.

Simon is so aware that it’s not that easy in normal circumstances, and that Clary’s life is an abnormal circumstance in itself. He was a dick. And now he doesn’t know how to fix it.

This is the first time there’s something that bad happening between them. The thing with Clary and Jace last year was nothing compared to this. At least right now, it feels like it was insignificant. 

So Clary… His situation with Clary is a mess. But it’s nothing compared to the state of his relationship to Maia.

She stands and stares at him like a deer caught in headlights and he wonders when she went from being relaxed around him to this tense and apprehensive attitude. He wonders when he started making her feel like she should hide things from him.

“Hi, Maia,” he says. She relaxes a little.

This is the Hunter’s Moon. It’s relatively neutral ground, even if she was still working there six months ago and probably knows everyone else working still. It’s not her restaurant, or the Institute.

“Hey, Simon.” 

Simon sits down, but not right next to her. He doesn’t really know what to say, how to start this. So he just kinda throws himself in.

“I’ve been thinking,” he starts. “I’m sorry for how I reacted to you and Clary… talking to each other.”

Maia says nothing. Her fingers slide over the glass of her drink nervously. 

“I acted like an asshole. Especially considering… When we broke up. How happy and relieved I was and how I treated you, all because I was getting closer to Izzy.”

Maia’s jaw sets. 

“I had no right to judge anything about you and Clary’s relationship. I didn’t even see anything, just you holding hands and I exploded.” 

Maia swallows, hard. She has yet to look back at him. “Thank you for apologizing,” she starts. She’s quiet. 

“It’s hard to forgive you for… everything,” she kept on. “It doesn’t seem that bad, but I think it’s just been building for that whole year without Clary. We just didn’t want to realize what was going. That we weren’t going to be able to go back to being friends after it all.”

Simon swallows as well. It stings to hear it. It stings to hear that Maia hasn’t really forgiven him, even if what he did didn’t feel like that much of a deal. But he knows her emotional life has almost always been tainted by betrayal before they met. 

In between her parents, her brother and Jordan… What Simon did and said, how easy it was to push her away after she came back… How he acted like he didn’t care about her, about them, even as she fought for the memory and legacy of her entire family… To her, he’s yet another one on the list of those who have betrayed her.

Fuck. 

“I don’t expect you to forgive me yet.” 

Maia looks up at him then. She looks surprised, but she also looks relieved. 

“Thank you.”

She thanks him but it tastes like… ash in his mouth. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed this!
> 
> Shoot me an ask or a DM on my tumblr @enkelimagnus, or reach me on my Twitter @enkelimagnus!
> 
> If you're interesting in an 18+ Shadowhunters server not focused on Malec, come and check out Everything But The Institute Sink! https://discord.gg/hXekdtM


	44. Broken Bounds

There’s a heaviness between Simon and Clary. Clary knows it, feels it, and… she can’t ignore it anymore. 

The text she just got from Maia is simple and straight to the point. ‘Had a chat with Simon. We’re not friends anymore. He apologized though. You can talk to him too if you want.’

It’s strange to feel this disconnect with Simon. Out of everyone of her friends, he’s somewhat the one that she feels the farthest away from these days. 

She doesn’t know how to fix it. Should she even fix it? A part of her doesn’t want to. She wants to say fuck it and go in a date with Maia and not think about how mad Simon was and how he accused her of cheating. 

But she can’t ignore it. This is Simon Lewis, her best friend, the one person she always felt like she could trust in this world. Many things have changed, he’s an immortal vampire now, and he also works in the Institute half of the time. Which makes it incredibly hard to ignore each other.

Besides, she’s gonna become Izzy’s parabatai soon, and she wants Simon there, by their side, even if his relationships with both of them have taken a turn for the sour lately. Clary can’t really think of many more people she’d want around her for her parabatai ceremony, except maybe Jace. 

Izzy will probably ask Alec, and it will be symbolic in a way. Jace and Alec, watching over them as they take their parabatai oath. They should probably sit down with them and ask the difficult questions. Like… how does it feel like when your parabatai has sex. Clary almost chuckles out loud at the thought.

Simon is at a prep station in the war room, fiddling with a bow. His old archery skills from his after-school club have been coming in handy. He seems deep in thought, and Clary wonders if she should bother him. It’s strange to see him so at peace in the Institute, working on weaponry. 

Simon was never that martial of a guy. He was rather a pacifist, when it came to everything but punching nazis in the face. Clary finds herself mourning her awkward and not-trained-in-combat best friend. Does he feel that way when he sees her in the training room too? Does he think about how she used to spend hours drawing or reading graphic novels? 

“Hey!” She calls out. Her voice sounds too chipper, almost grating. He looks up at her with a raised eyebrow.

“Hey,” he replies. “How’s it going?” 

It feels hollow, and empty. Clary swallows. “I’m good. I… talked with Maia.” 

Simon closes his eyes for a second. He doesn’t look at her when he opens them again, just stays staring at his hands and the bow. “Ah. How bad is it?” 

Clary chuckles, but it’s far from joyful. She’s forcing herself and it’s obvious. “It’s… She… She’s letting me decide what relationship I want to have with you, independently of her.” That’s the best way to put it. “You’re my best friend. And she doesn’t want to break that bond.” 

“Am I?” Simon asks quietly. “Your best friend? Or did we fuck it up royally?” 

Clary doesn’t know what to reply to that. A part of her screams that of course, he’ll always be her best friend. Another quietly says no. He’s not anymore, not after all of what happened. And that quiet voice somehow feels like it’s the loudest of the two.

“I want you to be,” Clary whispers. “We need to work on it, right? But I don’t want to lose you. Not after everything we’ve been through.” 

Jace told her he’d started thinking of her as dead so he could move on. Did Simon do that too? Did Simon stop hoping for her to come back, started moving on without her, and can they ever go back to before?

What the end of her relationship with Jace has taught her is that there’s no going back to before. But there definitely is a future. 

“I need you in my world, Simon Lewis.”

The words feel like they’ve been said years ago. Simon looks up at her, a little tired, a little wary, but with a smile on his lips.

“Let’s try.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed this!
> 
> Shoot me an ask or a DM on my tumblr @enkelimagnus, or reach me on my Twitter @enkelimagnus!
> 
> If you're interesting in an 18+ Shadowhunters server not focused on Malec, come and check out Everything But The Institute Sink! https://discord.gg/hXekdtM


	45. Steady

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is the last actual chapter of Selfish.
> 
> Next week will be the epilogue.
> 
> I hope you guys enjoyed being on this journey with me. i've been quite silent and haven't really said anything in the notes, but this is the proudest I've ever been on finishing a fic, I think.
> 
> Thank you for being on this journey with me. One last chapter before the epilogue.

Jace walks through the corridors of the Institute. It’s the only home he’s ever known, really, the only place he’s ever been able to call his own. The only place where he has ever belonged, because it was where the Lightwoods were. 

Things are different now, for the Lightwoods and for him. Izzy is the only one who still actually lives here. Alec lives with Magnus and Jace… Jace has been spending almost every night at Lydia’s. 

He understands Magnus and Alec now. He might not have had the same intense, sudden and earth-shattering beginning of romance as they had, but he can feel the pull in his stomach whenever he’s far from her, like gravity pulling him to the ground. 

At the very beginning of their parabatai bond, Alec used to have that pull on him. They were inseparable for a couple of months, before they were able to start moving apart a little. He needs to let Clary and Izzy know about that, especially because of Clary’s relationship to Maia. They need to know that they’ll have to be with each other, every day and every night, for a moment. 

Alec can move to the other side of the world now, and Jace doesn’t feel much of anything. If he’s honest with himself, their bond was always a little… codependent. And now that they both have managed to live for themselves, they don’t need the constant pull of the bond to keep them tethered to the earth.

Alec turns the corner of the corridor then. He’s well-dressed as he usually is, all serious in what’s looking less and less like field clothing and more and more like suits. It suits him. 

“Jace,” Alec beams at him. “I wanted to talk to you.” 

Jace raises an eyebrow questioningly. 

“Magnus and I want to invite you and Lydia for dinner this weekend, if you’re both free,” Alec continues. “You can say no of course, but I think it would be good for us to spend some time together, talk about things.”

Hiding away from the bad blood of their history is not a good idea, indeed. Jace can’t help but feel a little nervous at being at the loft with Lydia, with no other couple or people to provide a buffer between them. 

Jace nods. “I’ll ask her, but I’m up for it.”

Alec grins. “Awesome,” he gently claps Jace’s shoulder. “I’m glad we can do this, Jace.” 

Jace is glad too. Alec starts walking back to his office and Jace towards the training room. 

It resounds with noises of chains hiding wood, of metal colliding against something immobile. He peeks through the door, and sees Clary walking over to a mannequin decoy, vaguely shaped like a person. 

She unwraps something from its legs, a sort of… chain, made of three sections, each section finishing with a metal ball that looks heavy. Jace recognizes it after a while, it’s a set of bolas from the armory. Runes of speed and accuracy are carved into the metal balls. Clary is a little awkward with it, but he can tell she’s getting used to them. 

“Bolas?” Jace asks. 

Clary turns around to see him. She’s sweating and panting. She’s been training for a while it seems. Her hair is messy even in its ponytail. 

“Yes. Izzy helped me choose them.” 

Jace nods. “So you’re not gonna use your kindjals anymore?” 

Clary relaxes then. Since they are talking, she’s not going to keep training. She fully turns to him now, and grabs her water bottle.

“I felt like starting anew. New life, new partner, new place in the Shadow World… New signature weapon.” 

It makes sense. He’s glad she’s managing to find her footing again.

“They’re more of a capture weapon than anything,” Clary continues, weighing the bolas in her right hand. “I think that’s more my style. Less stabby, now.” 

Jace chuckles. “Okay then.” He walks around her, towards where the mannequin is. “Have you tried them on a moving fighter yet?” 

Clary’s eyes flash. “Not yet.”

Grinning, they throw themselves in training.

By the time the weekend comes, Jace still has yellowing bruises on his calves. No one is going to be running away from Clary any time soon, he thinks to himself as he dresses up for the dinner at Magnus and Alec’s place.

They said it was just a casual dinner, but Jace can’t shake the feeling they’ll be dressed incredibly stylishly. He’s far from the most stylish man, definitely more comfortable in his work outfits than in anything else, but he makes an effort. He wears a shirt and some dark jeans, with his usual boots, that he spent some time cleaning and shining for the occasion.

The repetitive motions and the calming activity were enough to briefly keep him from thinking about the dinner. He knows it will probably go well. Alec and Magnus are alright with Lydia, and they’re all mature adults. 

It’s from the same as the last time he went on a double date, ending up with Clary, Maia and Simon at the same table. They’d been too young and too ready for petty remarks. Now… 

Lydia walks in the bedroom as Jace buckles his belt and reaches for his shirt. He can feel her eyes on him. He can’t help but smile. This is… nice. This feels right. He turns around, sliding his arms into the sleeves of the shirt.

She crosses her arms a little. She’s wearing a light grey dress, simple and reaching her knees, and there’s a dark red jacket on her arm. It looks a lot like the jacket she was wearing when the demon and Raj attacked her… She looks great in that dark red color.

“Ready?” he asks. 

She nods, but he can see the tension in her nod. He finishes buttoning his shirt and moves towards her. His hands gently rest on her arms before he pulls her close to him, and breathes in slowly.

He holds her firmly but loosely, letting her decide how comfortable she is, before pressing a kiss to her forehead.

“It’s gonna be a good time,” he promises. “Alec said Magnus insisted on having you over for dinner.”

Lydia sighs a little, leaning into his arms. “I know. This is… your parabatai though.” 

“And he accepted us before we were even together,” Jace chuckles. “After Clary’s birthday… When I spent a while at your place. I told him, and he was completely okay with it.” 

Lydia moves back for a second, looking up at him. “Good. That helps.” 

Jace grins. “I thought it would.”

He leans in and she tilts her head up. He kisses her softly. Kissing Lydia makes his heart flutter. The soft domesticity of their life together makes he feel like he’s floating, some days. Just standing like this in their bedroom, together… It’s comfortable, it’s perfect, it’s  _ right _ . 

“I love you,” Jace blurts out as they part. When he realizes what he has just said, his eyes go wide. His face is hot suddenly, and he watches her, unable to look away. What is she going to say? 

She looks surprised for a moment, and stays silent. She doesn’t even look like she’s breathing. 

“I…” Lydia starts. “I love you too, Jace.” 

Jace feels like his heart is exploding. He leans in again, kisses her again, this time deeper and harder. He can’t get enough of her kissing him, of having her close. Everything feels right. She feels right. 

They have to force themselves to stop kissing when they realize the time, and that it would be rude to be late.

Jace remembers the first time they saw each other again. In an Alicante still rebuilding itself, as he was trying to rebuild himself. It’s been seven months. His entire life has changed for the better. 

Suddenly, he feels steadier than he has ever been. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed this!  
Shoot me an ask or a DM on my tumblr @enkelimagnus, or reach me on my Twitter @enkelimagnus!  
If you're interested in an 18+ Shadowhunters server not focused on Malec, come and check out Everything But The Institute Sink! https://discord.gg/hXekdtM


	46. Future

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to all of those who have been following Selfish since August 2019, where I first started this adventure. This story came at a point where I was on a journey to healing and growth, and dealing with my past feelings. I can’t really explain how incredibly proud of myself I am for writing this, for finishing it, and for going through the journey in my personal life.
> 
> Not writing this every week, not posting on Thursdays is going to be strange, but I think it’s necessary to finish this story now and say goodbye. 
> 
> Maybe I will write a sequel, maybe I won’t, but Jace’s journey of mourning and healing and loving is over. 
> 
> I love all of you guys, thank you for the comments and the kudos and the support. 
> 
> One last time, hope you enjoy this.

_ March 2018 _

“Babe?” 

Maia turns around as Clary calls out for her. She’s sitting at Taki’s, legs crossed, looking absolutely gorgeous, and holding the food menu in her hands. 

They’ve been dating for two months now. They’ve started getting into a routine of picking each other up for work, Maia’s meetings with the Council and with the Pack. They have dinner dates once a week and Clary spends half of her nights at Maia’s, rather than at the Institute. 

Maia is aware that this is only the early days of their relationship, but it’s going good. They’ll take it one day at a time either way. They aren’t planning a future together, this is just a good love story.

It feels strange to think about love. The last person she actually said ‘I love you’ to was Jordan. And Jordan has been dead for over a year. Maia was initially a bit shocked by his loss, but grieving hasn’t been as hard as she thought it would be.

She finishes up what she’s doing behind the counter and walks over, sitting down in the chair across from Clary’s.

Clary turns the menu around, puts it down on the table and points at one of the salads.

“Fairchild Burrata Salad?” Clary asks. Her grin is wide, if a little confused.

Maia chuckles. “Heh. I didn’t think you’d actually come back. I came up with the menu a bit before your birthday, and… it felt fitting.”

Maia reaches over the table for Clary’s hand. Clary sighs happily, smiling at her. 

“It reminded me of that awful double date we went on…” Maia continues. “Simon found it sweet when he saw it.”

Simon’s name is a bit bitter on her lips, but she’s getting better at it. She deals with him alright, mostly for Clary’s sake, and because she does care about having a good relationship with the vampire clan. 

Clary stands up, leaning her elbows against the table and kissing Maia. It’s a little surprising and very awkward, with the table between them, but Maia grins and kisses her back.

“We can still go on a double date with Jace and Lydia one of these days,” Clary teases. “That will probably be even worse than the last one.” 

Maia chuckles. “Right,” she whispers, and goes in for a second kiss. Her heart feels like it’s growing ten times in her chest.

_September 2018_

Clary’s hand comes to rest on Izzy’s arm, over the shape-shifting rune inside of her right forearm. 

A shudder runs down her spine. Izzy’s eyes are staring right into hers, dark and steady. They’re serious. It makes sense, this is a serious event. 

In a noise like ripping paper, a circle of fire draws itself into the floor of the ceremony room. The flames are blue instead of gold, and it plays coolly on Izzy’s features, making her look a bit older, a bit more ghost-like.

There is no going back, after this. Clary knows it, she’s accepted it a long time ago, and she wants this more than anything else right now, and yet she can’t help but shake with nervousness. 

Maryse, Alec and Jace stand side by side, behind Izzy. Simon stands behind Clary, so she cannot see him. It’s strange, to be alone like this, with only Simon as her actual family. 

Izzy smiles at her. 

The words leave Clary’s mouth, almost pulled out of her by the magic bond being tied in between them. “Entreat me not to leave thee, Or return from following after thee.”

Izzy’s smile goes wider. “For whither thou goest, I will go, And where thou lodgest, I will lodge.”

Clary can feel the rune on her stomach, drawing itself without need for a stele. It burns slightly, but it’s not like the burn of the other runes, it’s duller, softer. She feels like it will last much longer too. 

“Thy people shall be my people, and thy God my God,” Clary whispers. Neither of them really have a God, but their people… Clary tries to remember when their families fuzed like this, but fails to do so.

“Where thou diest, will I die, and there will I be buried,” Izzy whispers.

Clary swallows, taking a step closer about meaning to. She can start to feel something. Izzy’s as nervous as she is, maybe even more behind her outward confidence. Izzy blinks a little, confused as she feels Clary’s own stress, and Clary’s own love for her.

The last of the words fall out of their mouths in unison, as the bond tethers them to each other forever. “The Angel do so to me, and more also, If aught but death part thee and me.”

They fall into each other’s arms. Clary’s eyes slide close as she breathes in Izzy’s perfume. Her heart beats fast, but Izzy’s heart is in pace with hers. They’re together, united, forever.

_June 2019_

Jace exhales. He’s standing by the window of the Herondale Manor’s guest bedroom, looking out onto the garden. 

Outside of the manor house, the grass expends from the stone walls to the edge of a patch of wood. In a wide circle around the house itself, it has been cut down, but farther away it gets much taller, much wilder. It’s beautiful, really.

It’s the end of the afternoon. The mountains surrounding Alicante look pink in the distance, promises of sunset to come.

Jace can’t really focus on how beautiful the view is. The pale gold jacket of his suit is resting on a hanger, hooked onto the knob of the wardrobe door. He’s mostly done dressing up, with the matching pants, shirt, waistcoat and the light brown leather shoes. The shoes feel a bit strange on his feet, he’s not used to wearing dress shoes. But after all, this is his wedding. Only the tie and jacket are left. He feels like he’s going to suffocate if he puts them on now, and not because it’s a warm June afternoon.

This is his wedding. He’s getting married, actually married, to Lydia. He swallows, hard. Nervousness tightens around his heart like a giant hand and he feels like he can’t breathe. 

He never really thought he would get this far, to an hour before his wedding. He’d thought he would die beforehand, or break up with his future wife, but… He’s alive and Lydia seems even more certain of her love than he does.

There’s a light knock on the door. 

“You decent?” Clary says as she opens the door and steps inside. 

Jace turns around. Clary’s dark metallic golden dress is everything but discreet but… he loves it. He loves what it means. She’s Lydia’s suggenes. The two have grown quite close in the last year and a half since Jace and Lydia got together. 

Jace chuckles. “I am,” he whispers. “Almost done getting ready.” 

Clary’s eyes settle on the tie and the jacket. “Do you need help with your tie?” She asks. 

Jace raises an eyebrow. “Since when are you a professional tie tyer?” 

Clary shrugs. “I learned some time ago. I find wearing suits is very comfortable.” 

Her style has changed, since she’s been with Maia. Many things have changed. A long time ago, Jace thought he would get married to her.

Clary grabs the tie and loops it around Jace’s neck, smoothly starting to knot it properly. He doesn’t want a complex knot, there’s already so much gold happening…

Jace swallows. “Is… Is Lydia okay?” 

Clary smiles. “She’s not gonna run away from the altar if that's what you’re afraid of.” 

Jace doesn’t want to admit it’s true. “I’m glad,” he chuckles instead. “How weird would it be. Last time she got married, her groom fled. Maybe she’s planning the same,” he teases.

Clary shakes her head. “She can barely stop touching the Herondale ring on her finger,” she explains. “We were doing her hair and makeup and she was just playing with it the entire time.” 

The nervousness dissipates a little in his chest, replaced by warmth. In an hour, they’ll be married. In an hour, she’ll be Mrs. Herondale. Tears well up in his eyes suddenly.

Clary smiles tenderly at him. “You look great,” she whispers, her hands resting on his chest. “I’m so happy for you.”

And he knows she means it. Jace pulls her into a hug. He needs the contact right now. He needs the comfort. His heart feels like it’s going to jump out of his chest and he hasn’t even walked into the room yet.

Alec walks in the room next, dapper in his golden suit jacket with black lapels and dark pants. He notices Clary and Jace’s embrace and Jace sees in his eyes that he wants to comment on it, but he doesn’t. He just walks closer.

“It’s time to go downstairs, the guests are all there and everyone’s walking in,” Alec says softly.

Clary lets go of Jace. “I’ll go and care for the bride. See you later.” 

Alec smiles at her as she walks out of the room. 

“I never thought we’d be here one day,” he says quietly. “On your wedding day.”

Jace shakes his head, and walks towards the jacket, sliding it off the hanger. “Me neither. And yet…” 

And yet, in an hour’s time, he’ll be married, and he’ll have a rune on his wrist and a bracelet over it. 

He finishes getting ready relatively quickly, makes sure his hair is looking okay, before Alec and him walk down the massive staircase of the manor, down to where the ballroom is. 

The first time Jace walked into Herondale manor, a couple of months after losing Clary, the ballroom had felt unnecessary, and he hadn’t been able to imagine any way it could ever be useful to him. And now he’s getting married in it.

The hardwood floor is left mostly bare, with only a pale gold carpet over the aisle. The sides of it are lined with a slightly darker gold trim, it’s relatively simple, for a Shadowhunter wedding. The drapes in between the windows and over the wall are cream-colored, with great gold embroideries of the Wedded Union rune.

At the end of the aisle is the altar. It’s the same wooden pedestal carrying a massive rock of adamas, the wedded union rune carved into the side of it, ready to be activated by steles. 

The chairs are slowly filling up with guests. Jace goes say hello to Lydia’s father and her family. He’s stopped feeling anxious around the Branwells a couple of months ago. They’re sweet, as far as Shadowhunter parents can be sweet. Jace likes them.

The first row of the left aisle will be filled with the parents of the bride and the groom alike. Faith and Francis Branwell, and Robert and Maryse Lightwood. Jace never really stopped thinking of them as his family, and there isn’t anyone else he’d want to be sitting there. 

The custom would want for the two seats to be empty, to honor the dead, Céline and Stephen Herondale. There should also be a seat for Imogen. Blood family is important to Shadowhunters. Jace doesn’t want to see the empty seats on his wedding day. So here are Robert and Maryse, looking quite awkward and not looking at each other very much.

Jace walks up to them. “Hey,” he says. “You guys alright?” 

Maryse looks up at him with a smile. “I should be the one asking you. It’s your wedding day.”

Jace’s mouth pulls up into a grin without him really wanting it to. Strangely, it’s different to hear it from Maryse. 

“I know,” he whispers. He swallows, looks over at the massive adamas rock. Soon it will shine. “Any advice?” 

Robert chuckles. “Communicate,” he says softly, looking at Maryse. “Never let secrets and silence push you two apart.” 

Maryse nods. “If you remember you’re in a partnership… if you remember you can trust and rely on each other, you’ll be alright.”

Jace lets himself be pulled into a hug. Maryse has changed perfumes lately, she doesn’t wear the one she wore for decades anymore, but Jace likes this one even more. He likes who she has become. He likes the trust he has in her now. He hugs Robert very briefly, and moves on to greeting the other guests.

Max has glasses and a suit now, but Jace still ruffles his hair teasingly. Luke and him shake hands, and he says hi to some of Lydia’s other relatives, her aunt, uncle and cousin from her mother’s family, the Rosewains. It’s funny, he thinks. All this time, he had thought himself a Wayland, and had believed his mother to be Eliza Wayland, born Rosewain. And now he’s more or less marrying into that family.

Next on the list is Meliorn, looking regal in Seelie King clothing. It’s strange to know he’s at his wedding, Jace really wasn’t planning to invite him but… he can’t help it if Izzy brought him as a plus-one. 

Magnus and Maia are chatting quietly with Alec, the two seats next to them empty. Aline and Helen are both with Lydia helping her get ready. Simon sits next to Lily Chen, the leader of the New York Vampire Clan, Andrew Underhill and a couple others from New York and the Institute. 

Jace moves down the aisle, the faces of guests starting to blur together as time passes and more and more trickle in. Soon, Izzy, Aline and Helen walk through the door, all of them hugging him and moving to their seats. The crowd is getting a bit louder, conversation buzzing in Jace’s ears.

His heart is beating a little faster. He feels nerves making him feel a bit like he’s floating. He swallows, and walks over to the altar. Alec is standing there, making sure the stele and the necklace are ready. Everything’s perfectly in place. 

Brother Zachariah smiles at him, a questioning look in his eyes. Jace nods at him.

“The ceremony is about to commence,” the voice booms in everyone’s heads, and it resonates through Jace’s bones.

Alec and him get in place. Alec is steady behind him, a presence that he’s thankful for.

The doors open again, and in comes Clary.

Her dress shimmers as she walks down the aisle, her hands holding a small pillow on which Lydia’s stele and the bracelet rest. Jace swallows. He starts grinning again, and this time, it’s like his face locks into place.

Clary looks incredibly happy for him. And he’s so happy for himself.

She settles in front of him, her position mirroring Alec’s. She smiles at him. 

Jace can’t stop smiling. And he can’t stop the horrible pressure around his heart. What if she doesn’t come? What if she just leaves and says she doesn’t want to marry him after all. What if-

Gold shines at the corner of his eye. He looks at the doorway. There she stands.

Jace exhales. Lydia looks beautiful. Her dress is made of pale gold tulle and an embroidered gold bodice, her hair is up, simple and elegant and her smile… Jace has never loved anyone the way he loves her, in that moment. 

She’s staring at him, he’s staring at her. His smile is wider than it has ever been. His fiancée. His wife. His wife. Fuck, he’s getting married to the most wonderful woman in the world. Tears sting in his eyes, welling up and keeping him from seeing the entirety of the scene. Fuck. 

She’s walking towards the altar, golden and perfect and looking… like a goddess. He can’t stop looking at her, as she walks up the two little steps and takes her place in front of him. 

“You’re beautiful,” he whispers. She’s close enough that she can hear him. He realizes she’s tearing up as well.

They exhale almost at the same time. Lydia turns around, gently taking the bracelet from the small golden pillow Clary’s carrying. A tear is rolling down Clary’s cheek already. She’s always been emotive.

Lydia turns back towards him. Jace offers his hand, lets her slide the golden bracelet, made of twisted metal, around his wrist. 

The weight is light, the metal a little cold. This is it. He’s getting married. He has the golden bracelet on his hand, just like so many grooms before him. Lydia’s looking at him, and for a moment, he doesn’t want to turn away to take the necklace. He just wants to look at her, and be watched like this, for eternity.

“Come on,” she whispers teasingly, when he doesn’t move.

Jace chuckles a little, shaking his head at his own stiffness. “Not my fault I can’t stop staring at my bride,” he whispers back. Her grin makes his heart skip a beat again.

He turns back to take the necklace, delicately holding the two ends of the chain in his hands. When he turns around again, she’s facing Clary, not him. 

He tries incredibly hard not to shake as he slides his arms over her shoulders and fastens the necklace over the back of her neck. He wants to lean down and kiss the skin there, but he doesn’t. It’s not really the place. And they have the rest of the ceremony to go through. If he starts kissing her now, he’s not sure he’s going to want to stop.

Lydia reaches for him, and together they stand in front of the adamas. The guests are behind them, their suggenes on their sides, but now it is them, the two of them, and the adamas.

It seems to glow slightly already, the Wedded Union rune carved into it like a promise of what to come. Jace should maybe be looking at it to make sure he knows it perfectly well, but… the only thing he cares about right now is Lydia. 

Brother Zachariah’s voice resounds again. “It is time for Jonathan Chrisopher Herondale and Lydia Branwell to mark each other with the Wedded Union rune. A rune on the hand, a rune on the heart, a union is born.”

He’s heard the words before, but never with their names before it. 

Lydia’s hand is shaking when she holds the tip of her stele to the stone. It glows brighter than anything Jace has ever seen. 

She faces him, her face slightly more serious than before. 

“I love you,” he whispers. “Mark me.” 

She didn’t really need him to say it but he says it anyway. The tip of the stele burns against his skin. The inside of his wrist is a very tender spot, but he’s never welcomed the burn quite as much.

The rune shines bright gold on his skin. So do his eyes, he realizes, catching his own reflection in the window. 

It’s his turn now. He’s never felt this certain of anything before. The stele glows in his hand, warm and ready. His hand cradles Lydia’s. Her eyes are on him. It’s perfect. It’s right. It’s never been this right before.

By the time the rune is finished, Lydia’s crying. And so is he.

“I pronounce you one, before the Angel, before the Clave, before each other.”

Lydia grabs his arm then and pulls him into a searing kiss. 

That night they dance under the stars, in the garden of the Herondale manor, as Mr. and Mrs. Herondale.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading this fic! Whether you followed with me one chapter a week or whether you just read this all after it was completed, it means a lot!
> 
> I'll be posting some additional content like the outfits for the wedding and maybe the names of Jace and Lydia's kids on my tumblr!
> 
> Anyway! Thanks, and I hope you have a good time out there!
> 
> Shoot me an ask or a DM on my tumblr @enkelimagnus, or reach me on my Twitter @enkelimagnus!
> 
> If you're interested in an 18+ Shadowhunters server not focused on Malec, come and check out Everything But The Institute Sink! https://discord.gg/hXekdtM

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed this!
> 
> Shoot me an ask or a DM on my tumblr @enkelimagnus, or reach me on my Twitter @enkelimagnus!  
I have anons on and curiouscat so don't be shy!


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